


Where a Thousand Lovers Cry

by NessieSK



Series: I'm Home. [2]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom - Takarazuka Revue, Phantom: The American Musical Sensation - Yeston/Kopit
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Christine is not having it, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fix-It, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Lesbian Christine Daae, No Lesbians Die, Post-Canon Fix-It, Secret Relationship, Touch-Starved, fem!Erik - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-10-24 12:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20706023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NessieSK/pseuds/NessieSK
Summary: Erika's face looks like death, but Christine was compassionate and brave for both of them and didn't run away. Amid the act of redemption that Christine caused, Erika confesses more murders and lies than she should. Christine has to decide if it's her values or her love for Erika that matters most.  Things get complicated when Christine is forced to participate in an elaborate plan to kill her phantom, which could be much more than Erika predicted, enough to destroy her, enough to dig up the secrets of her origin.Continuation of the Takarazuka production of Yeston and Kopit phantom (the scenic version of the 90's miniseries) ''Home'' sequel (it is not necessary to read that to understand this). Fem!Erik X Christine. NEW SUMMARY





	1. Makes me feel glad I'm born

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! The usual announcements, phantom does not belong to me and English is not my first language, so let me know if something is wrong.  
This is a sequel, it is not very necessary to read the previous part to understand this, the only thing you need to know is that in the previous part Erika confessed to Christine that she killed Joseph Bouquet, Christine does not care much who killed What matters to her is the small part of killing.  
The story is completely inspired by the Takarazuka production of Yeston and Kopit's phantom, which is one of the Japanese productions of the scenic and musical version of the 90's mini series (Cherik), the biggest change between the canon version and this is that Christine didn't run when Erik took off her mask, so nobody is dead... Yet (just kidding!...or not?)  
Also, Carlotta is also alive, Erika don't kill her because Christine asked her to not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! The usual announcements, phantom does not belong to me and English is not my first language, so let me know if something is wrong.  
This is a sequel, it is not very necessary to read the previous part to understand this, the only thing you need to know is that in the previous part Erika confessed to Christine that she killed Joseph Bouquet, Christine does not care much who killed What matters to her is the small part of killing.  
The story is completely inspired by the Takarazuka production of Yeston and Kopit's phantom, which is one of the Japanese productions of the scenic and musical version of the 90's mini series (Cherik), the biggest change between the canon version and this is that Christine didn't run when Erik took off her mask, so nobody is dead... Yet (just kidding!...or not?)  
Also, Carlotta is still alive, Erika don't kill her because Christine asked to not

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would appreciate it if you could keep quiet, so we can start the meeting!" Cholet said, the man's face was red thanks to the effort of be almost shouting and yet, his voice drowns over the crowd, like a castaway roaring at the sea.

Christine tilted her head trying to understand what he was saying, but remained crestfallen. She had more important things to hide from. She was sitting in the last row of chairs placed in the auditorium, trying to go unnoticed. But of course, that didn't happen. She felt shameless glances, people turning their neck all they could to look at her.

She had become the new martyr of the opera after returning miraculously alive. But, although she hated to admit it, Erika was right. The rumors that it had been the phantom of the opera who had kidnapped her, had made no one want to talk about it.

That didn't stop her from feeling in the lion's cage. She felt so small and exposed, and yet, never so left behind .

Cholet had called all the employees with the purpose of discussing the ministry's plans for the future of the opera after the disaster of the last week. Usually, they would be sitting in the front rows of the stands, but the chandelier was still under repair. And nobody wanted to be under or even close to it, and risk the possibility of living something similar never again. Christine could hear the men who had been hired to repair it, even though she refused to look up. Every time she heard the chains grind, her breathing was cut, she was ready to jump at the sound of a bullet that thanks to heaven never came.

The opera was immense, and to maintain it, an impressive number of people were needed and everyone was gathered there. It was too many people, too much noise. Every inch of the auditorium was full. And the feeling of ballet rats breathing in the back of her neck and knowing that it was her of who they were talking about didn't help.

Everyone had an opinion about this, and nobody bothered to keep it to themselves.

It was utter chaos, people were scared and Christine writhed in guilt. She sighed nervously, feeling sick. She put a hand on her chest trying to calm her heart beating runaway inside.

She watched Cholet desperately try to get attention and felt sorry for him. No one was particularly fond of him, everyone still blamed him for Mr. Carrière's dismissal. And nobody, not even his own wife respected him.

Her heart stopped beating when she remembered Carlotta. Erika had assured her that she had done nothing to her, nothing more than a simple joke, and she did not know how much that was in Erika's standards. If the phantom of the opera was as it was painted, then she had done much more than a simple joke

Carlotta had ruined her debut and maybe her career, but considering how this was partly her own fault for not being able to control her ... phantom, -Why was it her responsibility to look after her? Love was not a valid answer, but it was the only thing she had to offer. - her conscience could not tolerate allowing itself to hate her. But even without her permission, she couldn't deny that the world seemed like a brighter place minutes ago when she didn't remember the existence of that woman

Why did Carlota hate her so much if she had never done anything to her? She was a good person, bad things were supposed to happen only to bad people. Was she cursed perhaps? It was her sentence to take death wherever she went and be forced to find her happiness and then lose it?

_Because I killed Joseph Bouquet_

A single sentence had destroyed the last of her remaining pillars,

''Christine are you okay, darling? '' Sorelli asked worried. Because of her position as one of the main ballerinas, she should be in front, just behind the actors. But her protective nature was more focused on taking care of Christine.

"Of course I am!" She replied with exaggerated false security, much more abrupt than her habitual sweet being.

Christine was sitting with Mireille and Sorelli at her sides, but not even the presence of her friends could bring her any security.

Mireille patted her back with raised eyebrows. It was hard to believe her when she could see the weird face she was making to retain her sobs

"Here you go." Mireille said, handing her a handkerchief, knowing that any attempt to cheer her up would only make it worse.

''Thank you,'' She replied too embarrassed that they saw her cry.

The humiliation was never going to stop?

Sorelli rubbed her back with a motherly affection in her gaze, attributing Christine's mood swings to her kidnapping. How strange, she was fine this morning when she arrived

Christine began to hear the inspector Ledoux clean his throat to attract attention, little by little, every person who saw him was silent, and that example silenced the rest. Soon he had everyone silently looking at him.

He had become the new local celebrity in the opera. Everyone considered him a hero for his participation in her rescue. The soprano had no idea of what they were referring to, but she was not going to ask. Until now Erika's advice not to go contrary was working very well

''Are you sure you are okay, Christine? ''Mireille asked, puzzled, listening to Christine make a dry sob

''I already said yes!’' She replied, quickly taking away the tissue of her face

Just in time it was when Ledoux gave the word to Cholet, which was a relief. The scandal overwhelmed her, but she couldn't tolerate hearing her own thoughts. Is this how Erika felt all the time?

She swallowed another sob together with her tears, she was going to cry every time she remembered Erika? Oh god this was ridiculous.

Everything in her life was ridiculous! She has here to act in operas, not to live them!

"Thank you for paying your attention." Was the first thing Cholet said with cheeks colored with shame, and irony in his voice.

He cleared his throat before continuing. ''I don’t think it’s necessary to remember the reason we are here today, something outside my usual work values, but I consider it necessary because we can’t waste time. ’’

''puff, values.'' A male voice snorted softly.

"I will speak clearly, the ministry is not happy with the debut of our latest production."

It would have hurt Christine less if him had stabbed her in the back. She felt all the eyes go to her. But she didn't dare to look up. She hunched over herself, squeezing the handkerchief Mireille had given her, buried her fingernails in the palm with such force that she wondered if the moisture in her hands was sweat or blood

She had never felt more humiliated. She heard her friends talk to her, but she couldn't hear anything else, she refused to listen to anything else.

''between the monetary losses of Titania and the fall of the candlestick, the damage account scales to more than one hundred thousand francs, and will continue to rise. '' He speaks

The murmurs began again, Christine opened her eyes wide and took a single deep breath. She stopped listening to the background noise while her mind shouted a single question into the air, how was a disaster of this magnitude possible?

''Sirs! Without making a scandal! ’’ Cholet say quickly, trying not to lose control again

‘’ If our new production does not raise enough to cover expenses, the ministry could make drastic decisions, anyone could lose their job. That is why I beg you that when we announce our next production in a couple of days, do your best, we will have to cut our usual budget and stretch every penny to its maximum. '' He said, due to stress and fear in his face, Christine knew it was serious

Many came to the same conclusion, as they began to murmur in panic. Christine swallowed, nothing that had happened today felt real, it must be a dream, a nightmare, so much anguish shouldn't be possible.

‘’ AND WHAT ABOUT THE PHANTOM!? '' One of the sceneshifter shouted from the top of his lungs from the balconies.

And the chaos began again. Everyone began to speak loudly in anger and fear.

Christiane's heart beat so hard to get out of her chest, shattering the icy facade he had tried to keep standing

She began to breathe heavily, feeling the drops of cold sweat sliding down her burning skin.

‘’ Christine, are you- ‘’

"I have to get out of here," she whispered in a choked voice, clogged by the knot of anxiety and guilt in her throat.

‘’ Darling, wait ’’ Sorelli called her trying to take her hand

But she only took the air. Christine was gone

* * *

Christine hyperventilated sitting in her dressing room's vanity chair. - Was she still her dressing room? Would she ever have one again? - wiping the cold sweat on her forehead with a damp cloth courtesy of one of the maids who had seen her run here

There were distant murmurs ringing from time to time in the silence, the meeting was silent, probably Cholet had given the word to Ledoux again.

She looked at her reflection. Those eyes didn't look like hers.

There was a different woman than this morning. Haggard and red eyes, sticky and oily skin, her hair was a mess and it looked like straw. Her almost cadaverous appearance fit with what was going on inside.

When had she given Erika so much power to destroy her? That would not have bothered her this morning when she was convinced that she would never try.

Out of the corner of her eye she visualized the full-length mirror, the passage. Her heart beat firmly in her throat

Since she had met her maestra, Christine had sworn not to judge her. She wanted to know, she wanted to understand, but the hardest thing would be to make Erika talk. She was a complicated woman, she didn't do anything if she didn't want to do it and that was her virtue and her curse.

She got up with trembling legs and with hands clasped in front, trembling but tense, trying to fake the feeling of security, she faced her reflection,

Would she be there? Could she hear her?

She knock the mirror as if it were a door, afraid to break it.

''Erika?'' She whispered, her voice cracked into a sob-like sound.

''Angel, are you there? If you're there, can you open the mirror so we can talk, dear?'' She asked, understanding her palm on the surface of the mirror.

She had her stomach touching the reflective surface, afraid someone could hear her and find them.

"Erika, I want to understand, help me understand," She begged.

The silence that responded formed a giant knot in her stomach

She sighed, a little sob escaped unintentionally. Who did she want to fool? She knew Erika's presence too much to know if she was there or not. And she wasn't here.

She groped for the switch to open the passage, but she couldn't find it and quickly lost her patience

''Oh god.'' She whispered frustrated

She keeps searching for a few seconds until she lost all of her patience. She hid her head over her forearms, blaming her inability to find and activate a simple button on her trembling hands. She had entered without problems this morning, seriously Erika had caught her off guard.

Someone knocked on the door made her jump into place and immediately she moved away from the mirror as if it were about to explode. Whoever it was, she couldn't let anyone see anything weird with the mirror, she never allowed anyone to find her.

’’ Christine? Sorelli told me that you were not feeling well, come on, I'll take you home. ”Philippe said worried.

She silently hiccups and wipes the last remnants of tears. she confronted her reflection for the last time.

_Oh Erika, what have we done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter! After much thought, I decided to start this sequel. I became too fond of Erika and Christine to leave them with such an ending. There are many topics that I want to include here, common things in other phantom adaptations that this one does not have, for example, the masquerade, the marriage proposal, the ''choose me or I'm going to kill myself '' many things that may or may not include. Most of the story will be from Christine's point of view, but Erika will come to take charge at some point, and yes, it will be a disaster. Comments and kudos are very much appreciated :)


	2. Aupres de ma blonde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Now the usual ads. Phantom does not belong to me and remember that English is not my native language, sorry if there is an error
> 
> If you are familiar with y / k phantom, the difference here is that Christine did not run when Erik showed her face. So, she is still alive and Carlotta is also still alive because Christine asked Erika not to kill her. We'll talk about her later  
This is based on the Japanese takarazuka production of 2004, so Erika is Wao Youka here
> 
> Edit 13/11/19: soo, well, the song that Christine sings here is the same one she sings in the miniseries during her first night at the opera, the first time Erik hears her sing; but the translation I used was incorrect, so I returned to correct that. The song is Auprès de ma blonde. traduction by madbeppo.com

It had been a week after the final play of the year to be presented at the opera Garnier was announced. Faust, comfortable and dear Faust. Play repeated to satiety, but according to the ministry had never failed. The classics were for something.

'' Christine, I ran out of red thread, do you have some left? '' Mireille asked sitting next to her, spreading the garment she was sewing on her lap.

Before Christine could open her mouth, Madame Durand, principal designer and seamstress, responded.

''Apparently now the color thread is 'expensive' according to Cholet. if we can save ourselves a few cents we're going to do it. '' She said snorting, giving the dark-haired girl a roll of white yarn.

Mireille sighed, but she returned to her station and continued sewing.

There were many who thought that choosing Faust at this moment was a stupid idea. The production was well known for being expensive, very expensive. And although the opera still had much of the scenography of past productions, new ones would have to be done. And the best part! Cholet's big idea to save costs, it was to cut the costumes budget in half. Because of course, they couldn't reuse costumes; they had to be new, bright, innovative. The Faust revival should sound in every corner of Paris.

"Like these fabrics need less help." She snorted under her breath, grimacing, watching the white yarn stand out on the crimson fabric. It would end up covered by a belt, but not having access to what she previously took for granted bothered her.

'' I heard you, kid, and I know that. Believe me, I don't like this either, but we were instructed to do a lot with little, and we're going to do it. '' Madame Durand said authoritatively.

All the girls nodded almost in unison, some, like Christine, with less enthusiasm. Christine being in command of Carlotta, rarely sewed with the other girls. It was much quieter than she expected.

After the failure of Titania, whispers and fear were elements in the opera Garnier. If you valued your work you were scared. It was not as if the opera were going to go bankrupt without the support of the ministry, the opera would not go anywhere; But the same could not be said of its employees. A staff or salary cut was a fear lurking in the shadows at all times. Daily it was possible to hear someone bursting in tears.

Erika had armed this uproar for her, she admitted it without guilt or shame. And Christine, had just nodded, she had never thought about the consequences of their actions. She felt stupid and irresponsible when she remembered.

Living with the guilt was difficult, but living without Erika was not helping.

Erika had not come back after their last discussion. Every day Christine went to their music room to look for her, with no luck. And she was getting tired of talking to the walls. Her list of options was narrowing down to go looking for her to her house. But the damn mirror. The idea of returning to her old dressing room frightened and embarrassed her. It wasn't as if she had the time anyway.

''Christine. '' Madame called her.

The blonde raised her head at her name. They had met rarely, but of course, she knew her name. All the opera did.

''Let Flora finish that, you get the angels skirts for the new dancers. Rehearsals start tomorrow and we have to make the first adjustments. ''

Usually the first adjustments would be made until the last month. But any excess of cloth or beads that could be left over was very much appreciated and would definitely be used.

''All this for tomorrow?'' She asked uncertainly. She couldn't say it was too much compared to the current workload, she could do it. But it would be another day without being able to look for Erika.

''I have to say it's my fault dear. I forgot to tell you, but these new policies make me lose my mind. " She apologized in a sigh. She wasn't used to working with so few seamstresses.

Christine nodded overwhelmed, but before she could say anything, someone spoke.

'' Rehearsals start tomorrow? How!? '' One of the girls whose name Christine had forgotten asked scandalized, saying what the soprano was thinking.

'' Cholet advanced the opera - again, the date is not yet defined, but it will be at a point close to the new year. ''

"That is only two months away!"

'' How do you set up an opera in two months?!''

And that hellish murmur began again.

"I don't know, and if you keep on lounging we'll never know, let's go ladies, back to work!" She announced clapping to disperse the girls.

The girls sighed in unison, already exhausted, and continued working.

"That explains why we haven't seen Soreli in a while." Mireille whispered while sewing, frowning.

'' Our poor Sorelli. '' Christine agreed, while shaking her head, worried about her friend. And taking out the white clothes from the basket.

The ballerinas' routine was already brutal. If none of the seamstresses complained it was because they knew that the worst of all this would be taken by the ballet rats.

'' I don't know how I'm going to finish this. '' Christine complained trying to put the thread in the needle.

"Let me finish this and I will help you." Mireille said sympathetically.

''Thank you, Elle.'' Christine sighed in relief, smiling broadly.

''No, you won't, Mireille. We do not hire many extra seamstresses for this production, we need everyone to do their part. I know it's tough, girls, but there's no other way. '' She said not very happy, she hated pressing her girls like that.

"It's okay, there's no problem." Christine said nodding, with a small and kind smile, though not very sincere on her lips. "Thank you anyway, Mirelle." She told her friend.

"Whatever for you, Christine." She smiled shyly at her.

Christine had problems, but she also smiled back. She sighed seeing the huge pile of clothes.

She inserted the white thread into the needle.

* * *

"Something else?" Christine asked trying to hide her irritation. Not wanting to be mean with Valerius. People did not have to endure her poor handling of emotions

She wished Erika could learn that.

"No, I think that's all." said Valerius, Carlotta's personal assistant, putting the many new dresses on the worktable. With the idea that they were accommodated to Carlotta's measures.

In the most unexpected and inconvenient moment. Christine didn't even want to waste energy complaining.

"Okay." Christine nodded in an exhausted sigh, trying to hide her anxiety. If Carlotta had new dresses, it meant that she was fine... hopefully

Or maybe they would be looking for an appropriate dress for her funeral? Christine thought and quickly buried the idea in her head, _not now!_

"I know it's too much," Valerius said sympathetically. When Carlotta was not near, she was not so bad

Christine couldn't say he was a horrible person. She followed Carlotta like a puppy, laughed next to her and encouraged her bad behavior. Valerius and Carlotta had attacked her just enough for her to realize their intentions, but without her being able to say anything about it. Even so, Christine didn't blame her, were there more options for a girl in the capital? They would be friends in any other circumstance.

'' I will manage. '' She smiled. '' This doesn't seem like Carlotta's instructions. '' Christine said, changing the subject to start a conversation.

She had been glad to return to the peace of the small room near Carlotta's dressing room, her previous job. But she had missed the detail that she would have to be alone, and she didn't want that. She was tired of talking to the wall waiting for an answer

"They're from Mr. Cholet, Carlotta hasn't been herself these days, he hopes this can help her," She said. Christine stopped listening to her in the middle of the sentence

Her heart beat with an almost painful firmness inside her chest, and she did her best to hide it. Christine opened her mouth to ask, but no sound came out. Coward, she dared not face tough truths.

"Okay," She said, making her best effort so her words didn't get tangled up with the lump in her throat.

"She'll be fine, that's why Mr. Cholet is here, if Madame Carlotta wasn't doing it right, he would be with her," Valerius said.

"Yes, I suppose he must love her." Christine replied distractedly. Valerius need a few seconds to realize of who she was talking about

She shrugged. '' I guess so, what do you think?''

"I'm the least qualified person to talk about love right now. " Christine said in a sigh.

Christine wished that had been heard less stupid in Valerius' ears. So much to think of her elusive phantom was making her imitate her drama.

She shook her head. " You were so dramatic, theater stuff I guess.'' She said leaving Christine alone with her thoughts. "Good luck, Christine."

'' Thank you '' She mutter.

Christine waited a few minutes, making sure that Valerous was well away before suddenly releasing all the air from her lungs. She put her hand on her chest before speaking.

"Erika, are you here, angel?" She asked, there was hope in her, she had never come to look for her in this room.

"This is ridiculous and you know it," She said defeated.

She didn't understand Erika's reasons for hiding. She had acted badly, and ruined lives. But Christine wouldn't judge her until she talked to her. It wasn't like she had another option

A thought that had wandered without stopping in her head was if Erika had had a motivation, a reason. What did she know about Joseph Bouquet? The few times Carlotta had mentioned him was as weak, harmless and anxious. Nothing that could hurt Erika, but for Erika the world was against her existence. Her firmness impenetrated and her coldness was something, but her eyes had a fragility, a gloss, like glass about to break.

Being a woman was a constant vulnerable situation, an inequality rarely recognized, and much less addressed. And that was scary, but she never thought that could reach Erika, her fearless and strong Erika. Maybe yes, unless not. And that question was a crossroads that she wanted to solve with her.

She sighed ''Are you sure? It's your last chance. ''

Silence.

She dropped into the chair, defeated, and didn't try anymore. She was worried and would give everything to hear from her, but there was no time to lose. Although an extra pair of hands would come in handy, she thought seeing the work ahead of her.

And she started sewing, being tormented by her thoughts. She missed her dear, very much. Every day she thought in her voice, in her eyes, in the hair she never got to comb, in the lips that she never got to kiss.

The soprano shook her head, trying to cut that last thread of thoughts. She needed to reorganize her priorities.

She was in love with a woman, that in itself was something difficult that she hadn't even begun to digest. But then Erika had, she HAD, to complicate everything.

She was afflicted and felt very guilty. She had not been sleeping for a week and the guilt consumed her. She felt complicit in a murder she barely found out about.

Maybe if she didn't love her, the fault wouldn't be so much, but Christine couldn't give up on her, everything but her.

She continued sewing at record speed. She had to finish that pair of dresses quickly to return to work on the costumes. She would definitely have to arrive early tomorrow.

''Christine. '' Someone said opening the door.

Getting her out of her winning streak, making that a good part of the not exactly small needle enter her finger.

"Auch!" She exclaimed shaking her hand. ''Philippe, knock before getting in! '' She claimed wiping the blood from her fingers with a rag, sore and annoyed.

'' I'm so sorry Christine! '' Philippe apologized kneeling beside her ''Let me see. ''

"It's just a prick, Philippe, it's nothing." She said casually, sticking her finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding.

"I'm so sorry!" He apologized again.

Christine smiled sweetly. It was sweet to see how worried he was about something so simple.

"I'm fine, don't worry." She said nodding. "It's just a picket." She repeated wiping her finger again on the handkerchief.

''Are you sure you are alright?''

"I'm a seamstress, it's part of the job." She replied, smiling as if it were obvious.

"Let me compensate you." He said sitting next to her.

''Really? How? '' Christine looked up while she was still sewing, there was no room for models in such a desperate situation.

Phillippe had sat in Erika's chair, Christine hoped she wasn't close, or she would be really angry. And they had already seen what happened when Erika was angry. Her tantrums were to fear.

'' Let me take you out for lunch. '' He asked playfully.

Christine laughed under her breath. He was so sweet. It would have been so easy to blush and accept shyly. But she was not that girl. Now she knew it.

''Oh Philippe, thank you, but not now. I have too much work. '' She explain shaking her head.

''Oh please. I know you've been stressed, you haven't been yourself. Take a break Christine, you deserve it. ''

"We all deserve a break right now," She said firmly. "That's why I can't jump on my responsibilities."

He smiled ''I like that about you. But come on, let me be your bad influence friend just for today! ''

She resisted the smile as much as she could, but finally she let herself go. ''Philippe, no!'' She said trying to be firm, but failing in the attempt.

''did you eat today? You look pale. '' He asked her.

"No." she shook her head, and I immediately wish she hadn't mentioned it. She barely had time for dinner last night and hadn't had breakfast.

"So what are we waiting for?" Philip asked, extending his hand to her. "What is stopping you?"

Erika. The name flew so fast to her mind that she couldn't stop it. Going out with Philippe felt like abandon her. It felt wrong. She couldn't be with her or see her, but being here it felt almost like taking care of her. And if it was all she could do, she would take it until Erika was ready and opened to her again.

"There is a lot of work to do, I can't jump on all my responsibilities just because my friend is the patron of the opera." She joked, patting Philippe's back, with special emphasis on the word 'friend'

Philippe laughed. '' I could learn one or two things from you Christine. '' He praised her with affection. '' One last offer, what do you think if I bring you something to eat here and keep you company until you're done? '' He asked.

Christine thought about it for a few seconds. She still didn't want to be alone. But this was _their_ place.

"Pleaseee" He said in a funny voice trying to make her laugh.

She opened her mouth to answer, but at the last second she just smiled and nodded. She didn't feel Erika close, and even if she was, it wasn't her business. Philippe was her friend, and she didn't want to be rude. Besides, she was actually starving.

"It's okay, you win." She laughed, nodding. "Thanks, Philippe. You're a good friend."

''You are welcome. Any suggestions? '' He asked from the door.

"Surprise me," Christine replied with a shrug, grinning broadly.

She sighed when he left. She looked at the wall with longing in her gaze. Her life was a disaster, every dream had been postponed and every achievement diminished. She felt alone, alone as Erika promised her she would never be.

'' Erika? Don't you dare get mad at me! And I promise you that I won't get mad at you when you decide to come back... '' She said scathingly, but half the sentence her voice turned vulnerable and yearning.

'' I miss you. ''

* * *

'' You should have seen my mother's face when she saw me and Sorelli rolling in the garden trying to take the mud out of us! Those rosebushes were never the same again. '' Philippe said in a laugh.

A couple of hours later, there was brown grease-stained paper resting on the table and scraps of cloth and thread scattered on the floor. They had spent a good part of the day just talking with the door of the workshop ajar. The last thing Christine needed were more rumors about her.

''Can not be! How did Sorelli never tell me that she and you were childhood friends? '' Said Christine with her face flushed with laughter.

"I wouldn't call us friends." He shrugged. "I was an awkward kid, I had good intentions, but I ended up doing everything worse. Sorelli was not very happy when she got sick and had to stay in Paris while our parents had to go to do business. I offered to stay with her and I did. She just didn't like the idea of see me very much. '' Se said embarrassed of his younger self.

'' How sweet '' Christine giggled.

She knew that her friend was moderately wealthy, because of her family's many years of artistic career. Now she knew why Sorelli spent so much time trying to get Philippe's attention. Now, she claimed to have gotten over him. Mireille and she were still discussing whether that was true or not.

''Yes, I wonder why she suddenly got so clingy? And after that, now she ignores me'' He wondered.

Christine looked at him with raised eyebrows and open eyes.

''… What?''

'' Men are so blind '' She said shaking her head.

But well, she wasn't doing better either.

"We'll talk about that later, because it's time to go," He said in a sigh looking at his watch. "Do you want me to take you home?"

Christine shook her head, she had just finished Carlotta's dresses, there was still too much work to do.

"Thank you for the offer, but I haven't finished my turn yet."

"Do you want me to come for you when you're done?" He asked rising from the chair.

''Don't worry, I think I'll stay late anyway. '' She said, also getting up from the chair to say goodbye.

''Are you sure?''

'' Yes, I live nearby, I'll go with one of the girls, don't worry. '' She replied playing it down.

'' All right, I'll ask Joan Paul to keep an eye on you when you leave. '' He said, kissing her hand as a parting gesture.

''If it makes you sleep peacefully'' She replied with a shrug.

She hated when he overprotected her so much, and she hated herself for not caring about being overprotected if it was Erika who did it. Talking about preferences. Anyway, she could take care of herself.

"Have a good night, Christine." He said, with a tone rather far from platonic.

'' You too, Philippe. '' She replied.

When he left, the silence overwhelmed her again.

It had been a pleasant afternoon but now she felt numb. She had a reality to return to.

At least she would always have their place and their music, and she didn't need anything else or anyone else.

_The quail, the turtle-dove,_

_ And the pretty partridge_

_ And my pretty dove_

_ Who sings day and night._

She filled the silence until the lights went out and the people left. A candle and a needle as her only company.

Many hours later the candle was consumed, but the loneliness of her own voice had lulled Christine long ago.

Hours later, when darkness entered and the opera became the phantom's kingdom, the walls opened and imperceptive steps touched the ground.

'' _Christine… _''

* * *

"CHRISTINE!" Someone said very loudly in her ear. "Wake up!" Mireille gently shake her shoulder.

'' Don't be so sharp, Mireille.''

Christine opened her eyes suddenly in the middle of a wave of light that burned her eyes, her face laid on the desk. In the space of a second, she realized many things.

It was daylight, she had fallen asleep and had not finished even half of the skirts.

Was it late to pretend to be unconscious? She was so tired last night that she didn't even remember falling asleep. She was in the middle of a skirt and then nothing.

'' Oh god the costumes! '' She exclaimed, taking her face away from the table and sitting down rubbing her eyes. Hoping to disappear from the face of the earth.

'' You did an excellent job with it, Christine! '' Madame congratulated her, Christine jumped in her seat when she heard her voice.

There were at least 10 of her coworkers. It was strange for Christine to see so many people in this room, but quickly put that aside.

''Are you talking about costumes? But I did not finish them! '' She asked in a dry sob, her voice small and sharp, still sleepy. She took the blanket that had fallen from her shoulders when she sat down and wrapped herself in it, trying to hide from the eyes.

It wasn't a very convincing reaction, but she was terrified of being fired. She loved this place too much. She couldn't leave, she couldn't leave her, no-

'' Poor creature, give her space, girls! She is still asleep. '' Madame interrupted her internal monologue.

Christine jumped back in her place, nervous.

'' If you didn't finish them; then who did this? '' She said delightedly, extending one of the skirts over her body so it were visible to Christine.

She gasped at the sight.

The skirts were perfectly embroidered in gold and silver threads, all in intricate and complex patterns, strategically positioned glass beads. It was a beautiful finish, it took your breath away just to see it.

Had she done that? An old story came to her mind where a girl is charged with making gold thread and unable to do so asked for the help of an elf in exchange for giving him her first child. Did she just give up her unborn child? In her sleepy state, she could affirm it. It was something much beyond her patience and abilities.

''Good job, Christine! You brought these fabrics to life, I don't know how you did it! '' Madame congratulate her with bright eyes. She looked very satisfied.

"Me neither ..." She whispered under her breath, clutching the blanket over herself. And she got up from the chair with some difficulty.

At that point she had become accustomed to the light. She looked around the room and in the most hidden corner of the room she saw something that brought all the answers.

Rose petals.

It was also an opportune moment to remember that she didn't have a blanket last night.

The sound of Madame Durand clapping caught her attention, as it did with all the other girls.

''okay, ladies, to the auditorium. It's time to make adjustments for the dancers. '' She announced.

The girls obeyed. And soon they started to leave.

'' I'll keep you a place. '' Mirelle whispered in Christine's ear, being the last to leave.

The blonde nodded, smiling awkwardly, still tense.

''Christine. '' The older woman approached the blonde's side

'' What's the matter, madame? '' She said shaking without being able to avoid it.

'' I don't want you to be scared, dear. I know what is happening is hard and scary, but you don't have to be walking in eggshells because nobody is going to fire you. You and the dancers are the most vulnerable groups in this opera and it is my business to protect all of you. " She said sweetly, like a loving aunt.

The relief that filled Christine's chest felt like warm water on her skin. She smiled broadly, even shaking slightly. It was so strange to know that there was someone willing to protect her. Feeling safe was something that she had felt that with her maestra. And she hadn't realized how much she needed until her dear was no longer around.

"Now, go home to refresh yourself. We'll be waiting for you in the auditorium. Take your time but don't take too long" She said kindly, patting Christine's shoulder.

"Thank you very much, ma'am. " She said sincerely.

"You are welcome, dear," She said hugging the girl for a couple of seconds. "Besides, there is no reason to fired you, you did a splendid job!''

Christine used her acting skills and smiled at her, nodding with false security. She hadn't done that, but she knew who. And god, she did want to kiss her right now!

And with that she leave her alone. As soon as the door closed, Christine removed the 'blanket' from her shoulders and analyzed it.

It was one of Erika's cloaks. Dark and silky fabric, even with decorative lace appliques and beads on the shoulders. Her hands began to shake.

She had a part of her angel again. She was real and tangible. Without thinking, she sank her nose into the cloth, enjoying its scent. Now, after all night; there was something of her own scent in her, but she quickly found what she was looking for. The first thing she smelled was humidity, but not in the bad way. It wasn't something surprising now that she knew where she lived. But the smell of fresh water, ink and only a little rose note were present, it was a familiar scent that made her feel safe.

She kept the cloak near her face for a ridiculously long time. Feeling calm and happy for the first time in the whole week.

"I know you're here, and I don't want you to mention what you just saw." She spoke scathingly, folding the cloak. She looked at the floor with red cheeks, ashamed if she had seen her.

"Is this how you thank me?" Said a voice, with soft and gentle irony.

Christine made a sound between a shriek and a gasp. Her voice was not like anything else. Secure, strong, powerful and sometimes and just for her, so soft. Her memory didn't do her justice. Love filled her chest, and left no room for any of the negative emotions she had had.

"Erika!" She said in a gasp, running to the wall. She brought her body to the wall as much as she could, drawing closeness.

She was here, and the joy that invaded her erased a week of anguish.

Erika laughed without joy under her breath. Her voice was very soft, almost like a sad whisper.

"I'd like to thank you more in person," Christine said insecure after a moment of silence. Saying 'face to face' felt inappropriate.

''No.'' She answered like a child in denial ''Not now.''

"You are impossible." The soprano replied lovingly touching the wall with her forehead, closing her eyes trying to absorb as much of her presence as possible.

It was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. But it felt redundant to mention it. Her Erika was special to say the least, and Christine wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

''Thanks angel. I'm sorry for being irresponsible and that you had to do my job. I feel so bad about this. '' She confessed with a frown. This whole situation made her feel like a girl in the confessional.

"Don't do it, it was nothing actually." She whispered. Her words did not have the usual agility and it seemed that it was difficult for her to know what to say.

''But it's not fair that you did all this and I took the credit. '' The blonde said in an apology.

'' I don't require anyone's approval, Christine. Besides, I don't think anyone would like to thank the phantom of the opera right now. '' It was hard for Christine to know how Erika really felt just by her voice.

She had never realized how much she trusted her mannerisms and her gestures to decipher her emotions. A voice without a body only told her part of the facts.

'' They don't, but I do. Thank you, angel, you did a splendid job. '' The soprano congratulated her, giving her best smile. She wondered if Erika could see her, you could never know with her.

''If someone's approval matters to me, it's yours. '' This time, her voice was more cheerful. Still weak, but it was possible to hear the smile in her voice.

Christine's smile widened.

''Now go home to refresh yourself, you have a lot of work to do today.'' The disembodied voice said.

The blonde frowned, her mood changed surprisingly fast.

'' Right Now? But I haven't seen you in a week, I want to be with you. '' Christine confessed deeply unhappy.

'' I'm always with you, always. I don't lie, it's not like I have another place to go. '' Erika joked with irony.

Christine didn't laugh. Now that she knew she really meant it, it wasn't funny.

"I've missed you so much." She said instead of responding to her joke.

"Me too, it's not something she's used to," Erika confessed, doubt permeated in every word. She herself didn't seem to believe it. She actually could still feel. She wasn't as broken as she thought.

"Promise me I'll see you soon, please." Christine begged her as angelic as she could, that always convinces her.

Being close to her only made her want to see her dear. She was so close but so out of reach. And that made her absence hurt more.

''I need time, Christine. Please. Don't tell me you don't. '' She lamented.

''Are you okay?'' The soprano asked, worried.

She knew how much Erika could get into trouble, but she didn't know how easily she could get out of them. A lot could have happened in a week.

''I've been worse. '' She boasted simply.

"That's not an answer!" Christine exclaimed, frowning.

"It'll have to be for now! " Erika cut it quickly, annoying.

'' Erika… ''She murmured hurt.

Her teacher had never fully opened. There was always an invisible wall that, although it became increasingly thin and flexible, never disappeared. Except that time she showed her face. That time, walls had been broken and tears finally shed. Erika had relied blindly on her. And that was her most precious memory, that's why Christine would never let her go.

She thought that wall had been torn down, but no. Now there was actually a wall between them. She was so dramatic.

'' A lot or things are happening, Christine. Your last priority should be me. I'll be fine. '' She said softly, lovingly. Almost like apologizing for her previous coldness.

''How do you know?'' Chrsitine asked restlessly.

Erika knew how much she cared for her?

''You're still here, you're with me. I dare not ask for more. '' She said, shameless love in every word.

Her Erika always said the most beautiful things. And Christine's desperation to see her grew. She wanted to see the hazy mist that covered her eyes when she said thing like that. She wanted to see the adoration in her gaze for her. Christine had seen it many times before and refused to recognize them as such. Was it a punishment of fate, perhaps?

''Erika, I adore you.'' She confessed, feeling like she would drown if she didn't.

The silence that answered her didn't hurt her. She knew that her maestra loved her the same way she did. Christine wanted to say 'I love you' but she wasn't ready for that yet. There were things that needed to be clarified before. She couldn't take a false step with her, she refused to hurt her.

'' You don't have to answer. '' She said sweetly, love in every syllable, compassion in every word.

And Erika didn't do it. Christine wondered if she had broken her almost partner. Her love was a genius, but a bit slow for things like this. And although Christine was not going to press her in any way, she was hopeful for an answer. Knowing her, would not come, but she started to store his things and clean a little, giving her time.

She postponed her departure as much as she could, but after a few minutes, she turned to face the wall one last time. Was Erika still there? Christine did not know, and that was what finally gave her the courage to speak.

"I just want you to know that I want to give you a second chance, give me one too." Christine said extending her hand on the wall as she spoke.

She left a kiss on her own fingers and then pressed them against the wall. She rested her forehead on the wall smiling and a cheerful giggle rose from her lips.

After that, she finally found the strength and willingness to continue her day without feeling like she was drowning in a sea of unsolicited glances and malicious rumors.

Christine knew now. She couldn't write anything in stone until she confronted Erika and asked her reasons and who really she was. But now she knew that the woman she loved was not a ruthless cold-blooded killer. Christine was sure of that, she had no proof, but she would cling to that hope that with all her might.

Erika was not bad. She had issues, and God! If she really thought that her face was the greatest of them! But there was kindness in her. And that realization brought back the peace and hope she had believed lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have a lot of things to say today  
First of all, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I enjoyed writing it a lot; inventing a working life for Christine (a probably not historically accurate tho), showing her relationships outside of Erika, her battle with morality; It was fun, I put a lot of love into this chapter  
I think that was why everything went wrong with it. At one point when I was almost done translating it, Microsoft word ... disappeared, the application was deleted by itself, I don't know how it happened but it took the whole already translated chapter and part of the original chapter. I was devastated, and I cried, and I even thought of not posting anything. But hey that didn't happen. I dried my tears and went on. I'm a little sick of this chapter because I had to read it like 100 times between the two times I translated it, it was like 5 days in a row of pure translation, this chapter was scheduled three days ago.  
One of the reasons why it hurt me so much to lose this chapter is because I wanted to get rid of it, NOW. Why?  
Well, this is my last update until December. I have a pretty big life or death exam in November and I really want to focus on it. so see you in December! I will still be active on my tumblr anyway (nessie665) so follow me there!  
Thanks for reading guys. If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment or a kudo, really appreciate them. 
> 
> Oh by the way, I change the backstory for Sorelli in this story just to give continuity to the takarazuka production (she is the woman in yellow that Philippe has in his arm in melodie de Paris). I was very surprised that she was there, but I was not going to waste that opportunity. But well, I change her story mainly because the clothes she wears there are too elegant, she looks like a woman belonging to the same social class of Philip and that was never the reason for the existence of Sorelli. At first, I thought it might be Philippe's gifts, but he doesn't seem interested enough in her for that.  
It is only a small change but I wanted to clarify it to avoid possible confusion.
> 
> and that's it! im gonna to stfu now.  
See you next time!


	3. Without Your Sweetness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeston and Kopit's Phantom don't belong to me. based on the 2004 Takarazuka revue production by cosmos troupe. Also I included a few lexour references here too.  
oh, and the title and the first two sentences are from ''Without Your Music'' yes, the chapters will have a name from now on
> 
> I am not a native English speaker, sorry for the errors of spelling and grammar. Considering that this chapter is massive, there will be a few possibly

_Bleak, dead, incomplete_

_A season silent as a bird that doesn't sing_

_______________ 

'' Carrière! I wasn't hoping for you to show up, it's good to see you here again! '' Jean-Claude said from the door, much more casual and cheerful than he would receive any visitor. Years of casual friendship worth it.

Gerald smiled kindly, jogging up the stairs. It was interesting to come back, nothing had changed, but now, everything seemed brighter. Now that Erika seemed to be allowing herself to have a future, Gerald could be hopeful for his.

'' Jean-Claude! Nice to see you too. '' Gerald greeting taking the man’s hand to give an energetic handshake, in a proud and cheerful laugh.

" I haven't seen you laugh like that in a while, I guess taking this old building off your shoulders was good for you." He said with a tired smile.

"Not really," He said. After all, his life has been always there ''Things have just gone well lately." He replied satisfied with his ambiguous response. He had conditioned himself decades ago to never reveal too much.

But, he did not lie. Now, Erika was beginning to find her way, and with it, his guilt was finally diminishing. There are mistakes that he could never forgive himself, and losses that could never be replaced. But now, there was the hope of a happy future for their daughter, as Belladova would have wanted.

'' I'm genuinely happy for you. '' Jean-Claude nodded content.

'' Thank you. '' Gerald smiled at him. ''And how are your children?'' He changed the subject, interested; seeing the tired features of man.

'' My boys are doing well, but Mireille…'' He scratched his head and adjusted his cap.

"Is she okay?" Gerald asked with a raised eyebrow.

He had known the girl since she was a baby. Like his own daughter, Mireille had grown up here, since her two parents worked here. She had grown to follow in the footsteps of her now retired mother and be a dresser and seamstress.

'' Mireille is very busy with costumes for the new production. I am worried, she is young, but I don't like how they are overworking her. Cholet is saying that he will pay them with commissions at the end of the season. Do you want my opinion? I don' think so. '' He affirmed.

"What Cholet did now?" Gerald asked, very serious with his hand on his chin.

The man was an idiot. Erika had not cut her tongue by expressing it in quite colorful ways that no lady would have even thought. And this time, he agreed with her.

"Well, what happened with ... you know ... _Titania_," He said, whispering the last word. Gerald didn't know it, but Jean-Claude had a sincere affection for Christine, and he didn't want to humiliate her anymore.

Gerald nodded, of course, Titania, how to forget it. His daughter had reached a new limit of bad decisions made in a single day. _'Bold of you to assume that, Gerald’_ had been her response, and he did not doubt that.

''Of course, what about it?'' He asked, folded his arms, hiding his hands on his elbows.

'' Most of the scenography was shattered. So, Cholet decided to invest in another production with a bigger name to distract the press from the indecent. ''

"Okay, it sounds reasonable." He nodded with his hand on his chin. "Which production did he choose?"

''Faust.''

''Faust?!'' He exclaimed, surprised but not excessively shocked ''And what is the problem?''

''The production opens in two months. ''

''HOW!? '' He lost his mind at that moment.

He forced himself to calm down when he realized that people were watching, he had to be discreet. His presence was not requested or well received.

''As you hear it, Carrière. '' He nodded, helpless. ''Is scheduled for after the annual masquerade and ... it's a disaster, it's crazy, only a miracle will save this production’’

"Oh dear," He said too impressed to say something coherent.

How was he just hearing about this? How was Erika not freaked out talking to him through the walls of his house? Of all this, that seemed to be the strangest thing. Cholet being a jerk? Always, but Erika neglecting her beloved opera? That was strange

''I know." Jean-Claude said sympathetically, patting the man on the cheek to make him close his mouth.

"I will try to talk to some people and see what I can do." He said, trying to sound as professional as possible, as it was another business.

''Thank you, Carrière.'' And smiled. Maybe because he knew there wasn't much that Gerald could do.

If he was honest with himself, Gerald was lost with this. If he could see Cholet, he would refuse his requests for the simple fact that he could. And the ministry was not on his side. He had only one card and it was the most powerful of all. If anyone knew what to do, that was Erika.

* * *

''Erika!'' Gerald shouted for what seemed to be the hundredth time, an oil lamp in his hand.

When he finally went down the last step, he left the lamp on the floor and gave himself a moment to rest his hands on his knees and breathe. The five floors seemed to get longer and longer, but he wasn't getting any younger. It was unusual, at this point Erika would have already approached him floors back. But today she did not respond to her name.

Erika had a talent for getting into trouble that she didn't need, but how much had happened since he had seen her, two weeks at most?

''Erika'' He called with the lagoon a few steps from his feet; he didn't want to take the boat.

Something told him that she wasn't there anyway, and he didn't want to meet one of the many traps that Erika had installed over the years.

The water looked almost black because of the lack of light, there was not a single candle or a single source of light in sight.

Would be her migraines? No, that only left her in bed three days at mos- SPLASH!

"Don't say anything." The masked woman threatened in a hiss emerging from the lake.

The scream that Gerald let out was so loud that at that moment he was sure that there would be more rumors of the opera ghost when he left. Erika rolled her eyes and she winced almost in pain, before sinking back into the water.

"Holy Mary, child! " He exclaimed with his hand holding his chest so his heart would not pierce his ribs of how fast it was beating. "Erika, what are you doing there?!"

Erika remained hidden underwater. With his lamp in hand the water is closer to its true color and it was possible to see long strands of black hair floating like algae in a swamp. That was unusual, even for her.

"Erika, get out of there!" He didn't like to order her anything, but the idea of her underwater made him uneasy due to her lack of nose.

Erika took half of her head out of the water, making her eyes and part of her blue mask visible. They held a staring contest that could be much longer if Erika didn't need to breathe and she didn't feel the hole in her face being filled with dirty water. They say that everything has advantages and disadvantages, but she had not found a single redeemable quality to her noseless condition.

The woman sighed and swam to the other corner of the lake. She managed to get out of the water gracefully, trying to hide how embarrassed she was to have been caught in such a vulnerable moment.

‘’ I have problems too, Gerald. Tie a dog only makes it more vulnerable to the stones. '' She said, waving her hand to shake the water out of the sleeves of her blouse.

She was well dressed, a cream shirtwaist under a blue waistcoat, black pants and high boots, all completely soaked. Her boots made a humiliating wet sound every time she moved.

"What happened to you?" Was the only thing Gerald could ask.

That was weird. Erika was vain, a feature she had developed in her adulthood as compensation for everything else she considered inferior. She had an outrageous sense of fashion ever since. It was unusual to see her untidy and less for her own will. Had his daughter lost her mind? She looked miserable. Something had happened with the girl? _Christine Daaé_, he thought, maybe too strong because even Erika shuddered.

Erika did not answer. He sighed and climbed into the boat, took his lamp and paddled as fast as his tired arms could.

"I wasn't careful and the siren dragged me into the lake." Erika lied sarcastically, combing all her hair back, leaving a smooth surface that clung to her head like a dark handkerchief.

She seemed fine despite being soaked in ice water, after all, winter was near. But she showed no sign of being cold, uncomfortable or hurt. Erika had always had a delicate health, but he decided to ignore it for now. It was obvious that Erika didn't care right now and he knew she would close like an oyster if he didn't do things at her way.

"That is just a story that I invented," He reminded her, sitting on the floor with a grimace, a few feet from her.

'' Shh, she’ll get mad if she hears you. '' She said with a finger in front of her lips, in complete seriousness. Cold as if she had adopted the water temperature as her own.

A shiver hugged Gerald from behind.

The siren had been a silly story that Gerald had invented to try to keep Erika away from the bodies of water, something that had gone terribly wrong. It was no longer necessary at the moment when Erika had met her reflection. For the first time something had overcome her curiosity and that had been her fear.

"Are you okay?" He finally asked her, seeing her so thoughtful.

Erika armed herself with courage, her despair overcame her pride.

"She said she adored me, this morning." Erika let out suddenly in a dry sob. She turned to look at her father, as if waiting for him to confirm something he had not seen. She spoke in disbelief, in fear. Almost with guilt, as if she were lying, as something she did not deserve

Erika was trembling, not from the cold, but from the overwhelming power of her words. And that crushed Gerald, who did not know what to answer, what did he know about love after all?

He opened his mouth several times, but after a tense minute he gave up. He was frank and had raised Erika to be too. There was no need to soften anything. Even so, he felt the need to do so.

"We haven't talked much lately, right?" The man said in a sigh.

Not since his dismissal. with some luck, he saw her 2 or 3 times a month. And many times, Erika drove him away, that wasn't quite strange. The strange thing is that she looked… happy, lighter, still too buried in the dark to recognize light, but considerably less tormented. He never asked, and she never had an interest in telling him. Now he knew that his daughter's sudden happiness had a name and blond hair.

'' There’s no need. '' She replied by clicking her tongue.

"Are you still mad about my dismissal?"

''Can you blame me?'' She asked, raising her hands theatrically. ‘’Cholet is an idiot'' She said convinced, as if that explained everything.

'' It's not like I just found out, '' He said with one hand in the temple '' I'm not surprised you were angry. ''

He thought it was a good time to ask about the new production, but Erika came forward to talk.

'' Of course I was angry! And you don't even protest. '' Erika exclaimed draining the water from her hair by casually twisting. She had let it grow, he realized. She seemed to be herself again.

Gerald nodded in relief. The tremor and weakness had stopped. Apparently, her hatred of Cholet distracted her from whatever was bothering her.

"Nobody asked me for my opinion either, Erika." Gerald replied smiling wistfully. He did not know what to do after his dismissal, after almost 30 years he could not do anything else.

She huffed ''Yes, but you left me alone. Me? The most important of your life? '' She joked rolling her eyes, a fake and exaggerated hurt tone dusted in sarcasm. Dropping the small but abundant strands of hair that had fallen from her head to the floor.

Gerald laughed; she had always been dramatic. But she was right. He had thought many times about taking her with him, but how to trust that she could keep her hands to herself? If Erika had killed, it was because she was scared, as much as she didn't want to admit it. The problem is that Erika feared absolutely everything outside the opera.

'' You're still a handful '' He said melancholy

"Don't make me start with Carlotta as the prima donna!" Erika exclaimed theatrically, raising her arms as if questioning God why he had punished her like this.

''Nobody could take your place as the diva of the place anyway.'' He joked.

Erika laughed under her breath. "I would have passed the place to Christine without hesitation.'' She said, the love in her tone melting her voice.

The thought of Christine was pure poison or a miraculous balm for her soul, and she didn't know which one she was feeling at the time.

What seemed strange to Gerald, was the emphasis that her voice and expression put on the past.

''But Carlotta had to interfere. '' Erika spit with icy poison ''How is she?'' She asked annoyed.

"Stable, for what I know," Gerald nodded. "You gave her a terrible scare with those rats, but physically she'll be fine."

Where had she got so many rats? He didn't want to know. His daughter had not killed anyone else and that was what mattered.

"Ugh, God ignoring my prayers again." She complained rolling her eyes.

Gerald raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that, Gerald. She deserved it.’’ Erika protested at her mentor’s accusatory look.

"At least you didn't kill her, good job." Gerald said awkwardly. If Erika had been anyone else, he would have patted her back, but she didn't like to be touched.

Was it healthy to congratulate your children for not killing someone? It was definitely not normal. But Erika had always been peculiar.

Erika's face changed from indifference to horror. Her skin turned whiter, if that was possible. Her emotions overflowed faster than she could process them.

''OH GOD NO!! '' Erika suddenly broke into a terrifying sob, hunching over herself in a painful looking way.

She started shaking, Gerald could hear her teeth chattering. And despair invaded him, because he didn't know what to do to help her. He could deal with the sudden mood swings, but this was different in a way he didn't know.

'' Do you realize what you must ask me? That's just not normal, I almost killed her, Gerald! '' She exclaimed with glassy eyes, tears that wouldn't stop soon.

"But you didn't do it." He tried to comfort her in a mediocre way

"What is wrong with me ?!" Erika cried bitterly in despair, drowning in a sob. Her hands scratching the air in search of something to hold on, as an impulse not to resume her old childhood habit of scratching her face.

Gerald felt his heart tearing into his chest. He wanted desperately to tell her that nothing was wrong with her, no matter if it was true or not. Because his daughter was redeemable, there was kindness in her, he had always known that. Erika had the light of Belladova's soul. His dove was good.

But Erika spoke before he could even open his mouth.

"If Christine had not asked me otherwise, Carlotta would have died that night." She said, quickly, desperate, as she could hardly breathe.

'' But you stopped, that must tell something.''

"I don't think that makes me a place in heaven after whole nights thinking how to murder her! "

"This is the part where I tell you that is morally wrong, but after meeting Cholet I am not in a position to do so." He shrugged.

Erika sobbed in the middle of a laugh. And in something that surprised Gerald, she sank her cheek into his shoulder. She closed the eyes, exhausted, the bags under her eyes looked deeper in the dim light. Erika had enough of fighting, she was tired, she was sick of it.

"I thought I had deciphered it." Erika whispered, thick tears running down her cheeks and slipping under her mask.

"What?" He asked, not knowing what else to say. And slowly, he put his arm around her, not caring if the contact with her soaked his clothes.

He could never understand his daughter's pain, and she had never tried to explain it. Not until now

"When I showed her my face. '' She recalled, amazed at her own memories, "She kissed me, she kissed my cheeks and there was no disgust, there was no pity. There was undying devotion and serenity, and for a timeless moment, I was the happiest on this earth. '' She said softly, an overwhelming yearning emerging from her, making her shiver.

Gerald nodded, too infected with Erika's anguish to speak. He knew what she was talking about. The night she had returned Christine to the surface. She apologized for losing her mind earlier, and she told him part of what had happened in the forest. She had been so incredulous that she needed to tell someone to convince herself that it was true, between happy tears and laughs. She had put special emphasis on that kiss.

A kiss in the cheek? That was all? Erika sob. The source of her anguish was a kiss on the cheek. A common, mundane gesture, something that people gave and received without thinking. But for her, it had killed essential parts of her self-preservation method and brought to life the feelings that reminded her she was still human. Somehow, Christine had reminded Erika that she was alive, that she was real, that other people were real and suffered.

Erika hadn't thought about consequences in a long time.

''Erika... I don't know if the girl loves you in the way you want it. But she cares about you.'' He said softly, watching her reaction carefully.

Erika was devoted to her, if it wasn't her, it wouldn't be anyone else.

"I know she does." She said with love toward the girl's memory.

_So, what is the problem?_ It was a question that Gerald left to float in the air.

Because things could never be so simple. For Erika, the fact that someone loved her after seeing what she had become and being accepted was unfair, contradictory to nature. It couldn't be, it couldn't be.

"She can't love me Gerald," She said tormented. Her eyes had a childlike vulnerability. Innocent, would say the one who didn't know her.

"You said less than a month ago that God would be unfair if she didn't love you, and now you choose to turn your back on it?" He asked not surprised. Of course, he wasn't, she just was like that.

'’God must be used to people not knowing what they want. '' Erika said opening and closing her hand under her chin.

''Let me see if I understood. Are you upset because you got exactly what you want? ''

'' Effectively. '' She shrugged the best she could with her father's arm still around her.

"Is that why you threw yourself into the lake? "

"Is there any other more reasonable reaction?"

He sighed, he couldn't understand it, he could never; but he could see her reasoning. Erika had a prodigious mind, hungry for knowledge from the earliest childhood.

But his daughter had the hands of Midas and the eyes of Medusa. Her power to destroy could only be matched to her power to create. But that was not enough, nothing was ever enough for her. Until now, and Erika was not used to being satisfied, and she feared it

She was stubborn and controlling, if there was something she didn't like or scared her, she would destroy it without hesitation. Even her own happiness

''… Why do you suddenly care if Carlotta lives or not?'' Gerald asked quietly

Erika pretended not to hear the question, when in reality, she had an answer so solid and dense that she couldn't get it out of her throat

"I don't know." She lied in silent tears. "I guess it doesn't matter."

She couldn't tell her own father that feeling real felt like dying.

Gerald sighed, and slowly let his head fall on his daughter's. There was stormy silence, some peace with the storm roaring in the background. He listened to Erika sob for a few minutes, trying to comfort her without much success. It was like watching an ice figure melt. Erika navigates between the fragility of the gender she refused to fill and the false insensibility she had forced herself to adopt.

'' At least do you feel better now? '' The man asked, the question felt inappropriate because it was obvious that not at all.

''I told her that I kill Bouquet'' Erika confessed distressed.

What a way to say no.

''What?! '' Gerald jumped in his place, straightening and forcing Erika to do the same. ''Why did you think it was relevant to mention that so far?!'' He asked almost in panic.

Erika didn't answer, resting her finger on her lips.

"The girl didn't know, did she?" He asked. "Why did you tell her?" He interrogated her almost disappointed. She had been so close. That the girl had accepted her face didn't mean she could tolerate a murder.

'' It was the truth. '' The masked woman replied, without emotion.

"It doesn't mean the girl should know! " Gerald protested, he really must be desperate to give the same advice that had condemned him.

"Do you really want to live with the weight of having left such advice in my hands?"

''Forget it '' He hit the air like trying to disperse his previous words '' Erika what were you thinking? God did not bless you with the gift of tact, my child''

'' God did not bless me with many things. But I thought you were more interested in how Cholet is abusing the vulnerable groups of the opera. '' Erika replied, impassive at her father's reaction

'' One controversial issue at a time!’’ He exclaimed, pausing, raising a finger ''And… what did she say? ''

Erika sobbed in a wry laugh. ''I ... I was wrong and said things I shouldn't have said, she got mad at me, and left, but before she did, I told her. She approached to me, kissed my mask and told me that she needed to think. '' She cried, an overwhelming pressure on her chest prevented her from breathing. Her sweet Christine.

"Did she tell you that she loved you and you confessed to her murder?"

'' A valid exchange, but no. I confessed the murder ... a week ago? '' She hesitated, frowning, the concept of time was of no importance to her ''She told me… that, this morning ''

'' She knows you killed someone and still loves you! Erika, I've never asked you anything, but I beg you not to ruin this. '' He said, joining both hands, desperate-

'' Wow, what a choice of words. '' Erika scoffed with raised eyebrow, raising her arms '' Thanks for the trust, Gerald. ''

"just don't kill anyone!" He exclaimed losing patience. How many people had to say that?

'' I can't believe you have to ask me that! Christine is right, this's ridiculous. " She buried her face in her hands, holding a shout." Can't I make an exception? Cholet is looking for it. '' She said almost frantically, pushing the hair that had fallen into her face to her former position.

'' All right, we have to talk about that too, but later. Tell me everything you know, why didn't you contact me before?''

"I panicked!" She responded by raising one of her arms while the other still hugged her body. "I don't know, you know that time passes differently for me." She said, dropping her head back.

"Do you plan on doing something against him?" Gerad asked, swallowing. If he was honest, he thought that Erika was taking her sweet time with it.

" Not directly." She said in a vague and terrifying silence.

'' Then what? ''

'' I'll wait a couple of hours until Ledoux arrives, and then- ‘’

'' Ledoux is already here.’’ Gerald interrupted, somewhat confused, nothing ever went under Erika’s guard-

'’...What?''

‘’ The inspector Ledoux? He was here when I arrived. "

‘’ You are lying. ‘’ The masked woman assured with wide eyes.

‘’ Seeing your expression, I wish I was.’’

Gerald didn't know when she took it, but Erika looked at the time on his pocket watch. Her eyes widened and an expression of terror whitening her features.

‘’ Bloody hell no! ‘’ She exclaimed jumping up.

‘’ Since when are you British? And where- SPLASH

Gerald closed his eyes as the water wet his face and feet. By the time he opened them Erika was already on the other side of the lake.

'' Where are you going?!! '' He repeated standing up, wiping the water off his face.

'' With my Christine before they get to her. '' She replied already on the stairs, her boots making that annoying shriek.

'' You’re not going to give me more context before you go !? '' 

'' NO! '' She yelled out of sight.

This girl was going to be his death.

* * *

'' So, this is your first masquerade?'' Mireille asked, excited.

Christine nodded with a shy smile. She was still a little tired, every muscle in her body felt stiff. Yet she felt lighter, happier than she had felt all week.

'' Are you sure we can get in? '' Christine asked smoothing her dark green linen skirt that she hated, using her pretty dresses was no longer practical.

There were few minutes left before their break ended. The three girls were alone in the workshop. Christine was sitting at her desk, Mireille standing on her elbows on the desk, and Sorelli on Mireille's chair. The ballerina was trying to massage her sore feet over her pointe shoe after dancing for hours without mercy.

'' Of course! And even if we couldn't, what does it matter? You could arrive, leave before the midnight unmasking and voilà! Nothing happened here. '' Sorelli said, extending her hands up to fix the now messy bun in which her brown hair was.

She put a hand behind the yellow ribbon that decorated her bodice and took out a piece of paper folded numerous times. She unfolded a pamphlet, a draft of the publicity that would be made for the masquerade and showed it proud for her friends to see. Being part of the ballet corps had its advantages. You always knew everything before anyone else.

Christine narrowed her eyes, trying to read, leaning forward unconsciously.

''Oh, sorry, I forget that you can't read from afar. '' Sorelli apologized, extending the pamphlet for Christine to take it.

They were both too tired to stand up, so they stretched out comically as much as they could. Christine was about to take the corner of the paper when Mireille laughed and gently snatched the paper from Sorelli to give it to Christine.

'' Thank you. '' The blonde muttered, returning to her original position, and began to read in silence.

'' Have you considered wearing glasses? '' Mireille asked, staying close to Christine, resting her elbow on the back of the chair.

Christine snorted '' No.'' She said shaking her head, frowning ''I don’t think I would look good on them, and I really don’t need them. ''

Her vision had never been excellent. Her father had noticed, but they were very poor, and her problem was not so severe. Years later, Madame Valérius had mentioned it, but Christine had denied the offer. Christine still remembered her voice telling her the bad idea that it was not take care of oneself for vanity.

Her vision never bothered her. She remembered with affection the childish thought that the lights of the nearest city were fairies that nobody else could see.

She missed the days when her biggest problems were not to torment herself with things she couldn't control. But one does not choose with who falls in love, or if that person killed, threw decoration of several tons or if she lived behind the walls in the basement. Oh, Erika.

Those thoughts made her smile sadly and shake her head with melancholy. But nobody said anything, and that relieved her. She didn't think she could bear to lie when she had so many secrets to keep already. Every time she had a mood change, people blamed her 'kidnapping' and they didn't think about it anymore.

"Christine, nobody will force you to go to the masquerade if you don't want to. Are you sure you're not afraid?" Mireille asked, approaching Christine to put her hand on her shoulder

‘’ I'm not afraid of masks.’’ the blonde shrugged, staring at the paper without actually reading it, running away from her friends' eyes

Neither Sorelli nor Mireille dared to say anything. They were impressed by how little Christine seemed to care when someone mentioned her captor. But none dared to ask, and while they thought about what to say, they stared at her.

Christine felt the gazes on her. She sighed and stopped pretending to be reading the paper.

"What do you think I should use?" Christine asked smiling, trying to lighten the mood.

And it worked. Mireille and Sorelli's faces lit up.

"Well, I'm thinking of being a harlequin that night." Sorelli announced, lowering her two feet to the floor and placing her hands on her knees.

"I think it's a good idea, you'll look great!" Christine said smiling. It was not her most sincere smile, but nobody noticed it.

If she was honest, she didn't feel like going. She knew they were big events and feared what people might think and say about her after what happened at the premiere of Titania. She wished Erika could go with her, her darling always made her feel brave.

The idea of attending the masquerade with her on her arm was just a dream that could never come true. What costume would Erika wear? Something ostentatious surely. Christine hoped it wouldn't be much longer before seeing her face again. Depressing scenarios went through her head, but she kept smiling through her anguish. It was a cruel and new way to experience loneliness.

'' I think you would look good as a princess. '' Mireille suggested

''Umh no. '' She said, not looking at anything in specific. Her mind was far away from that workshop.

Erika could go like a princess? No, too cheesy for her.

'' How about a bat?’’ Mireille suggested.

Christine laughed '' I don’t think so. ''

Erika wasn't that dramatic, was she? Oh she was; part of her charm anyways.

'' How about an old and elegant garment? Like from last century? ''

'' Neither.'' Christine said shaking her head.

Erika already dressed like that very often, another of her ways of disassociating herself with people on the surface. Or, on the other hand, she wore modern-looking clothes. Apparently, she did not like remember the society of which she was not part.

''A fairy? ''

Christine was silent for a second '' Maybe. '' She said, leaning on the back of her chair, twisting the end of one of her braids.

She had never thought what a fairy would look like when she was a child. She only remembered the blue light. Blue, Erika’s signature color. A fairy could look like her, ethereal, unique, terrifying for some. Her own blue fairy, her fae.

While Christine was thinking, and her friends looked at her worried, someone entered the room.

'' Ladies, the break is over! Oh my God, where are these girls? This happens to me for giving them so much freedom. '' Madame Durand said, more for herself than for them, the poor woman had been losing her mind.

'' Yes, madame’’ Mireille said obediently, going to her station. She wasn't going to tell Sorelli to stand up, so she started clearing her desk first.

Sorelli and Christine stayed in their places looking at the woman, somewhat puzzled.

'' Sorelli, Madame Daurine is looking for you!'' She said when she saw the dancer sitting.

'' Oh no.'' Sorelli complained, throwing her head back dramatically, but she got up in clumsy steps.

'' Good luck, darling.''

'' Thank you, I'm going to need it. '' She complained saying goodbye to her friends with her hand.

'' My poor Sorelli'' Mireille shook her head. ''She shouldn't demand so much of herself. '' She said dragging the chair to its usual place.

"It's not like we have a lot of choice, Elle," Christine said in a sigh, shrugging.

'' I know. '‘ She sighed deeply, sitting, smoothing the skirt of her blue dress.

A couple of minutes passed. Their coworkers started arriving, apologize for the delay and greeting each other in whispers.

"Christine ..." Mireille whispered, patted her friend's leg under the table discreetly. " Raise your head and look at the door, act normal," She whispered.

Christine followed Mireille's instructions, and looked up.

The inspector Ledoux stood in the door frame, staring at her, in such a predatory manner that only a man could achieve. A chill passed down her back. When he noticed Christine's gaze, he looked away immediately and entered.

"_Oh_…Good afternoon Inspector." Madame Durand greeted, almost annoyed. She didn't have time for this.

"Good afternoon inspector!" A chorus of girls said cheerfully, some of them flirtatious. For the opera workers, he was the hero who had saved them from the phantom of the opera.

For Christine, he was the man who was trying to take away what she loved most. She had no reason to suspect the man, he was just doing his job, but that would not prevent her from not trusting him.

"Good afternoon, girls, Keep up the good work.’’ He said and left.

Several girls, including Mireille and Christine, watched him go, bewildered. Why would he come here to leave a few seconds later?

"Did you realize he was looking exclusively at you?" Mireille whispered worried about her friend.

Christine nodded without losing her cool '' Yes, but… are you sure? Maybe he's just watching? '' She said, but more than for Mireille, it was an excuse to calm her runaway heart.

'' In the sewing room? Please, that's suspicious. "Mireille said in a murmur. " Although he has been close since Bouquet died. "

Christine paralyzed every muscle in her body so as not to jump from her chair and scream when she heard Bouquet’s name. Of course, she also remembered the day that Bouquet’s body had been discovered after many weeks touring the opera sewers

She had thought it had been an accident. He had slipped and fallen, a tragedy, but not a murder. they had said that the phantom had done it, and Christine was not stupid. If she had not seen the similarities it was because she refused to do so. She was unable to compare her gentle teacher with a possibly imaginary monster.

A rediscovered memory returned to her mind. That night, during her lesson, she had asked her teacher, and she had responded without reacting and in complete tranquility that it had been an accident. Erika had lied to her without hesitation for a single second.

Christine felt that it shouldn't hurt so much, after all she already knew what she was getting into. Erika had many secrets, something she had always known and still did not understand. She knew that she shouldn't continue to trust blindly in her maestra, but she couldn't help it. No matter what she had done, Christine could not force herself to see her in a different way.

''I'm listening to you both! there will be time to talk later, girls. '' Madame Durand scolds them.

"Sorry godmother," Mireille apologized, straightening her posture.

Christine said nothing. Mireille looked at her sideways, feeling the melancholy emerge from the girl.

Christine needed to talk to Erika, and soon. She knew everything that happened here. The soprano felt like an outcast after the incident, and incredibly isolated now that she didn't have Erika to tell her what was going on at the opera. Her teacher was an irremediable gossiper.

The workshop was silent, and the only sounds were Madame going crazy checking the inventory.

It went on like this for about 10 more minutes. Until someone knocked on the door. Christine looked up and tried her best to swallow the annoyed sigh when she saw Valerius. _That's not nice_, she scolded herself.

'' Please don't tell me you're coming for Christine.'' Madame asked, taking the tip of her nose between her fingers.

'' She works for Madame Carlotta anyway. '' she said, trembling. Valerius was a very anxious person, especially to a group of people.

"Don't say anything, just take her. " Madame assured, making a hand gesture to indicate that they could leave.

Christine took time to stand up and when she did, she sighed. it was not the first time she had been taken out of the work to adjust more dresses, what a nightmare.

The dark-haired girl apparently felt her bad mood, as she said nothing as they walked to the other workshop. That's what Christine thought, because in the middle of the road, she took another course.

'' Where are you going?" Christine asked, slowing her walk.

Valerius kept walking, so Christine had no choice but to follow her.

'' To Mr. Cholet’s office. ''

'' What? Why?! '' She asked taking the hand of the assistant so she will stop walking.

'' Monsieur Cholet wants to talk to you. '' She replied, without looking at her. Her ambiguous choice of words was made to avoid giving details and for Christine, that was obvious.

''The manager? The head of the opera? Want to talk to me, a seamstress? Don't you think that it's suspicious? '' Christine asked, raising both eyebrows, trying to keep the sarcasm from leaking into her voice. It was at times like these where she realized that she spent a lot of time with her teacher.

"A month ago, you were not just a seamstress. '' Valerius reminded her. Despite being a painful memory, there was no malice in her voice.

Christine hugged herself, helpless. She was right, a month ago she was a respected singer with a brilliant career ahead. And now she had nothing

‘’ Please, Christine. I could lose my job. ‘’ The assistant begged her.

But Christine was kind, not stupid, and felt the manipulation in the girl's apparent vulnerability.

'' And something tells me that I could also lose mine. '' She said, before continuing to walk without another option.

Why did she always have to be so rude to Valerius? The girl knew how to touch weak nerves. But her emotions overwhelmed her and didn't give her time to keep thinking about it

Christine was scared. If she lost her job, she would have nothing left. She would lose her dream, her independence, and although she didn't want to admit, what would hurt her most, she would lose her teacher, her home.

It was a tense, thick and uncomfortable silence. Christine felt her heart beat in silent terror. _It would be over soon_, she thought to comfort herself.

When they arrived in front of the door, Christine sighed. Valerius took a few seconds before opening the door, giving the blonde some more time to prepare.

Christine shivered when the door squealed as it opened. The smell of tobacco and male cologne beat her, she always associated those two smells as bad, that one had to be alert and flee when necessary.

''Miss Daaé. '' Cholet the greeting, announcing her at the same tim.e

Again, all eyes went to her and she wanted the earth to swallow her. There were four men, Cholet, the Inspector Ledoux and two others she didn't know. Everyone was standing, from her perspective, they were waiting for her to bury their claws and let her bleed to death. Her throat closed when she saw the inspector. Mireille was right, he had been watching her.

Christine felt her heart jump when Valerius closed the door and went to a corner. Officially, she was trapped, she could no longer run.

She swallowed quietly, and greeted the men in a murmur, bowing her head slightly. Some responding politely, others barely noticed her presence.

'' It is a pleasure to see you once again, Miss Daaé. ‘’ Cholet said, circling her desk to stand in front of her. "Something to drink?" He asked politely, tilting his head toward a half-filled jug of water.

Christine had a dry throat, but the idea of accepting a strange drink from anyone was unacceptable.

"I'm fine, thanks for the offer." She declined the offer, shaking her head slightly, trying to smile. "It's nice to see you, too, Monsieur. Could I ask why you asked for my presence? ‘’ She spoke first. That might look like she had poor etiquette, but she wanted to get out of there.

‘’ Please, I insist. ‘’ He said, filling a glass with water and giving it to her. Completely ignoring the second part of what the girl had said.

'' Thank you.'' she smiled mechanically, putting her lips on the glass, pretending to have a sip. The proximity of the water closed her throat even more.

Christine smiled at him, sniffing the water discreetly, trying to find something odd.

He was a man of short stature and cartoonish appearance and expressions. Cholet was almost like that character devised to be comic relief, who was repeated over and over again in the ancient philosophical novels that Erika read.

'' Let me introduce myself, Monsieur. '' One of the men said, approaching her. ‘’ Edmond Moncharmin, from the ministry of culture.’’

Probably the oldest one there, with dark gray hair and eyes, kind and charismatic looking, but hard eyes like stones.

Christine smiled, trying to get them not see her discomfort. He said it as if it were a very big title, and although it was, she could not pretend interest.

''Good to meet you, Monsieur. '' She bowed her head.

Another of the men approached her, this time there was something familiar about him, but she wasn't sure.

‘’ Elijah Mauclerc, we met briefly before, if you remember.’’ He introduced himself, and he smiled warmly at her.

He was much younger than the rest and seemed much more sincere. Something in him reminded her of Phillipe.

"I do, it's a pleasure." She nodded, this time with a truer smile.

She remembered him now. She had seen him once or twice during Titania rehearsals. They had exchanged a couple of courtesy words and that had been all.

‘’ And the inspector Ledoux, you already know him well.’’

"Of course, thank you for your participation in my rescue, sir." She forced herself to say in a fake smile.

Christine stayed in the middle of a room full of men who obviously wanted something from her. That panorama could never be anything good. Unconsciously, she approached Valerius looking for security. She felt ridiculous for feeling so vulnerable suddenly. But she didn't let anyone notice. Men smelled fear.

"Nice to serve you," He nodded.

He was a tall, stoic and inexpressive man. His hair was combed back with so much product that it looked like a porcelain figurine.

'' We have a proposal for you, from the police station’’ Ledoux said slowly, as if he were talking to a child.

He stared at her, as if trying to see through her soul. She wasn't scared, she knew that the opera was the safest place she could be, but that was creepy.

'' What it is, what are the conditions and what does it mean to me?’’ She asked firmly, her back tense and right.

Christine was not ignorant of how vulnerable her situation was. A single woman alone in the capital was a dream for any man who wanted to abuse her. And she wasn't going to lie, that was scary, such powerful people had never wanted anything from her.

'' A focused woman? Such a treasure, I like that.’’ Moncharmin said, as if she wasn't in the room. He didn't say it as mockery or insult, he thought it was really a decent thing to say and that the girl should be flattered by it.

But she didn't, and that comment ended up settling the nausea in her stomach.

" Consider it a business proposal, Miss Daaé." Cholet said, looking for something on her desk. "Look at it for yourself." He said, extending a paper to her.

She barely flinched when she leaved the comfort of the proximity of Valerius to take the paper.

She raised her eyebrows. It was an invitation without a recipient for a gala, a gala whose date was in two weeks at the opera.

Christine looked up, her eyes wide open, demanding an explanation with her eyes.

"This ... this is in two weeks!" She exclaimed almost trembling from the impression.

‘’ I’m aware, preparations start tomorrow, and the invitations are being printed while as talk. ‘’ Cholet nodded.

‘’ Sir, with all due respect this is an abuse. The next play is a couple of months, and the masquerade already put more weight on our shoulders.’’ She said distressed.

‘’ I’m aware. ‘’

No, he was not. But Christine bit her tongue.

‘’ You will see miss Daaé, I will give you a second chance to start your career. I want you to participate in the gala, the main act if you want, you decide. But your presence is elementary’’ Cholet, he said in total seriousness. Something weird about him.

No one would ever be so merciful as to do that for no reason. People never risked God knows how much money to give another chance to a girl without contacts or roots, she didn't have a father to whom they could ask for a favor, or even a husband who could interfere for her. It was not feasible.

‘’ And why?’’ Christine interrogated him the second he closed his mouth.

‘’ The gala is a trap to capture the phantom.’’

Christine’s soul left her body at that moment, and her face lost all its color. Her heart stopped, paralyzing her entire body in absolute terror, in cold and overwhelming anguish.

'' Don't panic, Mademoiselle. It's a foolproof plan. ''

But Christine could not answer. She wasn't scared of the phantom; she was scared for her. Her hands began to shake, her arms tingled, feeling empty, with the overwhelming desire to hug her Erika, protect her, not let anyone ever hurt her.

‘’ And what will they do with… him? '' She asked. Following the act, they had chosen for her and pretending that her sudden anguish was fear.

"It's has not been decided, but we want him, alive or dead."

Until that moment, the whole conversation had been difficult to assimilate, as if she had difficulty remembering the meaning of the words. But soon the fear melted into the purest and darkest anger she had felt.

So, that's what they wanted. Damn, damn everyone! They wanted to hurt her precious Erika? How dare they?!

The sudden darkness of her thoughts frightened her for a second. But quickly her anger surprised the feeling. They were manipulating her, taking advantage of the entire opera, and then using her bait to kill her angel. Her sympathy had a limit that had been ridiculously crossed and trampled long before she even set foot here.

"How do you know he was going to show up that night?" Christine asked, her heart beating in her throat.

Would they have found the mirror? No, Christine knew Erika better than that, they wouldn't find her if she didn't want to.

‘’ We don't know, but box 4 has been left unrented for the past 20 years. The phantom's box. You must know that legend. '' Moncharmin joined the conversation. ‘’ The phantom is present in every performance, we do not believe that this time will be an exception, and less if we have your participation. ''

Christine turned to look at him with silent fire in her eyes. So, her suspicions were true. She was surrounded by people that saw her as something disposable.

"Are you asking me to relive one of the most traumatic nights of my life by use me as bait?" She said coldly, clenching her fists tightly. She never thought her voice could sound like that.

No one answered. The atmosphere got heavier. They smiled uncomfortably, trying to convince her to lighten the mood.

She did not smile. If their decisions made them uncomfortable, she had nothing to do with it. She had spoken with the truth and smiling back was apologizing for that. She wasn't going to do it.

"What if I refuse?" She asked with the same coldness, plunging her nails into her palm.

"Interesting question," Cholet affirmed, nodding, his gaze stayed on the floor. "We can't force you to anything, but ..."

''But what?'' Christine demanded to know. What would they do?

Fire her? Now that she knew they wanted to kill her fae, she didn't care, that was no longer the worst thing they could do to her.

''Well, the ministry is willing to move the date of the play if the gala takes place. The phantom is a terrible publicity, getting him out of the way is our priority.'' Moncharmin said, and dared to smile at her as if all this was a joke

'' And the trap will only take place if I act? '' She said in a challenging position, she was not scared, and she wasn't going to back down.

'' That's right, Miss Daaé.''

"What would happen if I refused?" She asked one last question, one last game card.

'' Well, the postponement of the Faust would be the payment for your services. If you decide not to contribute, well, you better go back to work. Because with three events in three months, they will need all the hands they can.’’ Moncharmin said, as if it wasn't a big deal. And for him, it wasn't, he would go sit on his ass in an office to bark orders and count francs

Elijah, of whom Christine had forgotten his presence, stepped forward to take Moncharmin from his shoulder. He looked at him with wide-open eyes and an expression similar to second-hand shame

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” He said in a choked voice, contributing for the first time in the conversation. He had been sympathizing with Christine and being horrified with her for what the rest was saying.

“The invitations are almost ready; another event could do us good after the failure of Titania. ''

That was the last thing it took for Christine to feel her soul burn in fire, after being frozen trying to find her voice. She was surprised, horrified that people like that were real.

’'You are manipulating me to risk my life, you have cornered me by putting the weight of the world on my shoulders… that is low and inhuman!'' Christine protested, fierce, rage burns beneath her skin. No one had ever put in her such a low value label.

She was disgusted, desperate, there was so much anger tingling under her skin. She knew that Erika would never harm her, but they didn’t know that, and they didn’t care.

They looked at her with wide eyes. Almost like wondering how she dared to have an opinion? How dare she protest?

“Don’t overreact so much, miss. It’s not good for you. Of course, we will pay them for their services. You have to let them earn a living,” He said with a shrug, paying no attention to anything the woman had said

'' That doesn’t work if they fall dead before. '' She said through her teeth bitterly.

There had been many accidents. Nothing deadly until now, but only God would know what would happen if another event of the same caliber happened.

'' Employees won’t tolerate this! '' Christine concluded.

Oh, but that was a lie and Christine ridiculous to saying that. Of course, they would. They had children to feed, debts to pay, schools, medical expenses, family abroad. Moncharmin was able to set people on fire out of greed. And the worst? It's that Christine knew that he surely doesn’t considered himself a bad person. In his mind, people had to do something to deserve to live, and that prejudice was so buried in him, that nothing and no one could tell him that he was wrong.

There was a silence where she could swear that the world stopped spinning.

"What do you say, Miss Daaé, will you?'' Cholet asked. He didn’t look comfortable putting her in this situation, but he was desperate and in his mind that excused him from all sin.

Christine felt her eyes wet in tears of anger but refused to shed one. They would see her eyes fall out before her tears

She thought about it. It was an unfair offer, an unfair decision. Would she be willing to participate in the hunt towards her best friend for a greater good? Betray her when she promised never to do so. Erika, the phantom was her teacher, her best friend, in any other situation her lover. She owed her so much and here she was, about to stab her in the back.

The opera was known for employing all kinds of people, many of whom she considered friends would not find a place anywhere else. Sick people, immigrants, anyone who didn't fit the mold. All vulnerable, all welcomed after being considered unsuitable in any other place. Some poor, others alone, just like her.

They had put a knife around her neck, had humiliated he, undervalued her.

What was the right thing to do? If the right option was obvious to someone else, it was not for Christine. In any scenario, she lost something. It was impossible to win.

But she made her decision, with her head up and her back straight, they could take everything away, but never her dignity, never her soul… and never her love.

_Erika, forgive me_

'' I’m in. ''

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... soooooo, there's a lot to say.  
I suffered so much with this chapter, I rewrote it twice entirely until I was satisfied. One of my goals in this story was to keep the chapters short and the updates constant, but then I failed miserably, and we only are in Chapter 3.  
This is a chapter that makes me very nervous because in the end I touched on very sensitive topics that I had never explored in any story, I hope I have done well  
The universe of Yeston and Kopit is very extensive but very little explored. I invented several things here completely, neither Moncharmin nor Mauclerc have official first names that I know of, and Mireille is not Jean-Claude's daughter either, but I thought that would make my universe more solid and credible, I don't know, you tell me.  
Another small change I made was to change the way Joseph died, in the production of 2004 Erik cuts his neck and in the following one, he let him fall at his death, and although my story was based on 2004 one, I decided to use the second option for Bouquet's death. Not to make Erika look good, she killed him, but to make his death look more like an accident.  
The updates will be more constant from now on, the next chapter is already being written. I missed this story a lot, especially Erika, I love writing in her perspective  
If you liked it and keep reading this story after such a long time, let me know in the comments, it would make me very happy. I would say you should consider leaving a kudo, but this time I want to give you a kudo for reading all that, it is massive, you deserve it.  
Thank you very much for reading! See you soon


	4. Wandering Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes well, a couple of reference to the ALW musical here, is that legal?

The weight of the world on Christine’s shoulders made her feel so tiny, so insignificant. A grain of sand on a beach she could never see. It numbed her heart, and made her mind run.

She had just proved right to those men that she was disposable. The phantom of the opera was going to die, and she would be responsible.

But that would not happen. They had taken advantage of her kind nature, but nothing was going to change that she was many steps ahead of everyone. Acting without taking that into account had been dumb, but if she acted with intelligence from now on, she could move the cards in her favor and benefit everyone.

Erika was the phantom, but she was much more than they could imagine. A brilliant mind, which immediately mastered any ability if she didn't know it already in the first place. She would be fine.

Two old and idiot men, a young man with no intention of really hurting anyone and a police chief were nothing against her. If Christine was already beginning to see the answers of how to manipulate them, Erika would destroy them, if she didn't do it literally.

Anger, that was the first feeling she could clearly identify. She was tired of being dragged and used. After so much pointless abuse, Christine thought she had the right to do something against it.

For that, Christine had a secret weapon that nobody else had, she had Erika, the phantom of the opera on her side, who would be willing to do anything for her. And that scared her.

How much was too much for Erika?

Her limit was not to lie, nor the destruction of property, and for Christine it was difficult to think of a higher limit than murder, limit that Erika had already crossed without regrets

Christine realized that her protective instinct towards her was ridiculous. If she was practical and as much as she hated to do it, she should worry about Cholet. Erika could kill him, make it look like an accident if she wanted to.

And then what? Erika could kill Cholet, Leroux, Moncharmin even Mauclerc if she wanted to, and Christine would be aware of every death and every step Erika made.

Could she live with that?

Well, -and couldn't believe she had to rethink it-, murder was wrong. She didn't want to have to look the other way while heads rolled at her feet. That was a no, it is clear.

Another question was asked, this time about the consequences of her previous decision.

She could live without Erika?.

In theory, yes. Christine had grown up in the midst of grief and death and that had taught her something, it was that no one was indispensable, and no one died of a broken heart.

But it was impossible for her not to remember how the option to choose what she wanted for her had been taken mercilessly more times than she could count. Christine wanted only one thing, and she wanted Erika. She wanted her to love and be loved, to take care and be taken care of. She could never love someone the same way she loved Erika, because Christine's love for her was as unforgettable and unusual as its own inspiration was.

She didn't want to give up on her. No matter how many smelly corpses were floated in the sewers under her feet or how many chandeliers were torn from the ceiling.

Could she be selfish for once and keep her?

What did she want? A permit? A signal? Anything that would tell her instinct to love her was right.

But she would never reveal the precious secret that Erika's mere existence had been so far. Especially when there were people actively trying to harm her.

There was only one person with whom Christine would have dared to talk about her.

But papa was dead ...

There was only one place, far from the city she had adopted as her home, where she wanted to be. A place that would allow her to think. It was still early, there were still a few months left for her annual trip to Perros, and she didn't have much money right now.

But at that moment it felt necessary to maintain her sanity. And she defined her path before changing her mind.

'' Where were you going, dear? ''

''Oh'' was the only thing she could say, confused as she wasn't sure in which part of the opera she was.

Jean Claude, who she hadn't realized was in front of her, looked worried

'' Is something wrong with you? You look pale. '' He said genuinely worried, standing up from the chair in the corner of the hall.

Her skin was sickly lighter, and her usual blush was replaced by an almost greenish gray undertone. Her blond and scattered eyebrows seemed to be trapped in a perpetual frown.

It was when Christine realized where she was going. She was in the dressing rooms. She sighed, everything always returned to the same place.

''Oh, I'm fine.'' Christine smiled joyless. " Why are you here? This morning you told me you were going to be at the front door for today.” She asked, putting together a conversation to start putting her plan into action. Jean Claude would be her exit ticket.

She had remembered that she couldn't just drop everything and leave.

'' Yes, but the inspector Leroux, insisted, no, forced me to leave my position, Cholet's 'suggestion' . '' He explained, as confused as Christine. " So I went back to watch the dressing rooms. " He said, pointing to the empty rooms.

''Oh'' Was all she could say, focusing on not tensing.

Would Cholet and the inspector be watching her to make sure she didn't run away? She couldn't tell, but here was the first example that she was ahead. She knew at least a dozen different entrances and exits, a handful of which no one else was aware, according to Erika, and her blind faith believed her.

'' Are you sure you're okay? '' Jean Claude asked her, seeing her lose in her thoughts.

'' Can I ask you something? '' The blonde said approaching the man, unable to answer his question, desperate in her gaze.

'' What do you need, Christine? '' He said, gently taking her elbow.

'' I'm leaving," She announced abruptly, firmly.

'' what? What happened for you to decide to leave?! You love this place'' 

" I'll be back tomorrow! ... I think.'' She explained quickly, whispering the last word.

The man sighed in relief.

'' You should have started there’’ He scolded her, fatherly

'' I'm sorry. " She smiled; this time more sincere. " I'll leave today, maybe tomorrow too, can you excuse me while I'm gone? "

'' You're going to go? Now?” Jean claude said raising an eyebrow “Are you leaving us in the midst of chaos? ” He joked, with some truth

She shook her head. '' I know and I'm sorry, but... '' she had accepted Cholet’s deal. So now that they had assured her that Faust would be postponed, she didn’t feel so guilty of leaving. '' I don't know, but I need to get out of here, I'll explain later.''

Later, when she thought of a compelling excuse

'' I understand. '' He really didn't, but he tried to be supportive '' Where are you going? '' He asked, somewhat awkward.

'' Perros''

'' Perros Guirec? That's ... very far. " He said in a snort. ''Do you think it's a good idea to go alone? ''

'' I've been traveling alone for years; I can take care of myself. '' She tried to reassure him, and the certainty in her voice did the trick

He nodded not very confident.

'' I can't and will not stop you, but can I ask you to consider it?'' He asked uneasily

She shook her head. '' I need to do this, I promise that I will explain everything when I return.'' She said putting her two hands together in a sign of prayer ''Please, please.'' She repeated.

Jean Claude sighed, he couldn't say no to those desperate eyes, whatever Christine had to do sounded serious, so he nodded at her request.

'' Do you have the manager’s permission? '' 

Christine's face immediately brightened; she knew that was his way of saying yes '' Yes.'' She lied.

Cholet needed her more than he wanted to admit, and even if he fired her, he would receive a note from the phantom of the opera. With or without Christine's approval.

" It's okay, no more questions. " He said. "Be careful, remember you're a woman traveling alone."

"I'll do it," Che promised giving the man a hug. "Mireille has my stuff, tell her to give them to me when I get back." She whispered against his shoulder, suddenly melancholy.

He nodded " Just be very careful," He said affectionately

Christine felt safe in Jean Claude's fatherly embrace, a single tear slid down her cheek. She just dusted her father's memory. That tear was only the first.

‘’ Goodbye.’’ She said, forcing herself to break the hug

"We'll be waiting for you. " Jean Claude smiled at her.

She nodded giving him her best smile. That was true, she had friends, people who cared for her.

So why did she feel so alone?

* * *

Christine immediately regretted having decided to wear her mourning dress in the same second she sat in the train's economy class. The cloth itched, and she had forgotten to change her chemise for a long-sleeved one, so she knew her skin would be gray when she took it off. It was a pair of sizes too small, and she felt the tense structure of the dress digging everywhere.

She used it every year every time she returned to Perros. It was not a very common practice, and every year, when her dress wanted to stab her, she remembered why, but it had always felt right to do so. There was a truth that Christine did not like to remember, but she had not overcome the death of her father, or the people who had welcomed them.

That's why every year she returned to Perros even if she didn't want to do it. Guilt forced her; it had always felt unfair that only she was alive.

For the rest of the year she pretended that they were here, alive and happy, waiting for her. It was easier to assimilate, but Christine wondered if that was why she had never completely overcome it.

Christine had thought that finally, this would be the year where that tradition met its origin and died. She had been so happy and felt so safe, she was in a place she loved and where she felt she really belonged.

But it could not have been, and now she was returning to a place that was no longer her home as alone as every year, and fuller of grief and guilt than ever. It was not the change she had been waiting for.

"Are you all right, miss? " A man with warm eyes and kind appearance asked. One of the workers, Christine noticed by hir uniform.

Christine raised the head, it was when she realized that she had been crying and not only lonely tears, no, her face was soaked, and her nose was watery

''Oh yes, yes. Thank you, don't worry, " She said, pulling a handkerchief out of her bag to wipe her face." I'm fine. " She tried to smile, but it was more a trembling pout.

The man just smiled at her, before returning to his place.

She looked at the window, recognizing the landscape where she had grown up, but whiter. _Snow,_ she thought with surprise, it was snowing, and her mouth opened, snow was not very common here, much less so early in the winter.

She remembered the winter when she met Erika, she had met her on a cold but sunny day at the end of February. She had become her safe place, her most precious secret.

Spring came early that year, for both of them. Their love was warm and felt right and safe, it made her feel at home, Erika was her home.

She had forgotten her parasol, and her hat, she realized when the train stopped at the station, in annoyance, as her bun began to collapse. She sighed and covered her head with the hood of the cape.

It was Erika's; the same one she had left on Christine's shoulders the night before. She received a couple of strange looks due to the rarity of the design. But it was comfortable, warm and smelled good so Christine didn't care.

It was as black as the rest of her clothes, bright appliques on her shoulders, the hood was wide enough for her identity to drift. It was exaggeratedly long, so Christine had to pick up the extra material with one hand so no one could step on it.

She quickly left the station, not wanting to see how she had no one to pick her up, and the only one leaving the station alone.

* * *

The trip to the cemetery hit her harder than usual. It was in this part of the road that she realized how alone she was.

She could say she didn't need anyone to be happy. Christine Daaé needed to love to live and her love for life and for herself was enough most of the time, but she dreamed of belonging to a family again, she dreamed of true love. Never spend her mornings alone, never be drifting from the world.

And she cried at how close that had been to come true. She thought this year would be different. Now she had a home, a job she loved, sincere friends, and she had found someone who loved her as much as she dreamed that she could love someone back. Everything was still there, but paused and after waiting a lifetime, Christine was tired of waiting.

She went through the cemetery door. It was lonely and although it was well taken care of, the mysterious and ghostly air gave it the appearance of being abandoned. It was as she remembered. Crosses, tombs and sculpted angels guarding the loneliness of eternity.

The majesty of the place made her feel much younger, causing her to agree with Erika. Christine was young and perhaps did not understand many things, but that would not stop her from acting as she considered it right. Soon she would return to the opera to fight for the people she knew deserved better. But today, today she could cry.

There were new graves this year, all covered in white. It was beautiful, haunting. The sculpted angels spread their now white wings, the church bells rang in her ears, and in her mind, a violin began to play the melody of a golden childhood.

She felt her heart in her throat and spiders walking through her skin when she found the grave she was looking for.

Valerius / Daaé

It read. Originally the Valerius last name was carved in the stone. But in the last days of her father's life, a plaque with both last names were made. It was a decent burial place in a beautiful cemetery, much more than a violinist could have paid.

She took off her hood carefully. It had been a while since her blond curls had come loose and now, they fell on her back, beginning to cover in snowflakes.

She dropped her arms to the sides, resigned, her lips trembled.

'' Hello papa.'' She said trembling and emotional, in a dry sob, '' I know it's a little early, but…''

But what? She didn't have the words to know what to say.

What had broken her so much to travel five hours in a smelly train being stabbed by her dress? What was wrong, so bad that it had no solution?

"I just needed someone to talk to," She said sadly, somewhat ashamed of losing control of her emotions.

She couldn't blame herself, after her father died, winter smelled like death. Those could be complicated months for her. That had always been the case, long before the extortions and the murders.

"But you are dead." She sobbed, kneeling. "Everyone is dead."

She sat on the plate on the floor where the names of those inside were placed. The coldness of the stone quickly pierced her dress and cooled her legs, causing her to shiver.

"Will I be doomed to everything I touch dies?"

It seemed right to say that everyone who loved her should die. She did not remember living without mourning.

"I'm sorry, Dad, a lot has happened." She apologized, wiping her tears from that baseless fear.

The night of the premiere of Titania played in her memory. The chandelier falling, the screams, the bullets. It had been so horrible, even if she remembered little. Nobody knew how much that night still chasing her.

"I suppose it was my fault, I always knew that Carlotta wanted me out of her way and I should have suspected more when she approached with the promise of peace between us." She said bitterly, containing the tears of anger.

'' I guess I shouldn't underestimate her, she came to my dressing room and offered me of what she was drinking, she insisted and I didn't want to be rude when it was the first time she was being nice to me. ''

'' She said it was herbs, but I realized that there was something weird when I tried it. Then she said she wanted to know who my teacher was, and I completely forgot about the drink. How I was supposed to answer that? I didn't even know Erika's name back then! '' Christine exclaimed. ''That sounds more absurd out loud. '' 

Erika's name now came out so naturally from Christine's tongue that she had forgotten that a month ago she didn't even know it.

" I didn't know it, but I would never have betrayed Erika's trust, then Carlotta threatened to fired me and I panicked. Erika and I we had worked so much, we put so much effort, months of work wasted." Her anger had melted to be the sincerest sadness and the most bitter disappointment.

'' And when I went on stage, everything was amazing at first. '' She couldn't help smiling when she remembered ''Until I go speechless, and the disaster started! Erika went crazy, she took the stage, the police were there and…’

Why were the police there? They couldn't have arrived from the station so fast. Christine had refused so much to remember that night that the importance of those details had not been relevant until that moment.

This seemed to be bigger than Christine had initially thought. And Erika was the heart and soul of the opera, she had to knew it, maybe she had always known about Cholet’s plans.

So why had she never told her? Not that Christine could be especially angry about it, there were much worse things that Erika had never told her.

''… When the police arrived armed, I was sure I was going to lose her, I've already lost too much, papa. I could only think, _not her_, everything but _her._ "

She remembered the desperation she had felt while her mind could only shout that thought when it happened. The memory was enough to return the panic, and she had to breathe deeply to calm down.

" Then the chandelier fell, and the rest is history. " She laughed without humor.

She went silent, the cemetery was empty, so the silence was absolute.

Erika was complicated, so many hidden layers behind stone walls. For Christine, beauty and destruction existed only to become a single being in her eyes.

The icy wind caressing her face gave her courage.

''… You told me you only expected two things from me, that I was happy and that I was a good person, but did you ever think that those things could cancel each other out? Can I be a good person if I love someone who is not ... precisely one?’

As gentle as her maestra was, however good Christine knew she was, the part of the murder and the destruction of property took away a few points

'' Can I stay with her? How do I know if she is going to change? No matter what promises she makes to me, she will find the gray area and find a way to do what she wants, of course she is going to do it. '' She almost laughed with love and resignation in her voice.

"What should I do?" She stroked the tombstone, going over her own name with her finger. "Any sign?" She asked trying to use irony to cover the longing in her voice.

It was the first time she really had the option of keeping someone loved by her side or not. That option had not been given to her when her father died.

_Oh my sweet angel_

Melancholic, she lay on the stone, it was so cold that her skin burned to the touch, but Christine ignored it as best she could. She rested her head on the stone, and sighed, in silence, finding the peace that had been torn from her

Christine closed her eyes and for the first time, she heard only silence, there were no bullets ringing in her ears, no glass shattering.

She stayed there for a long time, more than she should, as her skirt began to feel wet and her skin numb.

Christine did not speak during that time, after so many hours of traveling, she had much less to say that she thought. And it was comforting to be able to find peace in the silence again instead of having to over stimulate herself in order not to think.

A strange sound caressed her ears, mixed with the wind, imitate it until little by little, it took its true form.

The sound of a violin.

The melody warmed Christine's chest and made her heart sink. It was beautiful, it was sad, it was happy and melancholic, like the sweetest lost memory or the deepest pain, it was everything, and it was nothing, for its origin seemed to be the wind itself.

'' Papa?’' Christine called with wide and awake eyes, moving away from the stone.

There was only one violinist who had made her feel that way and he was dead under her feet, his violin under his arm rotting with him.

But that violin, where did that violin come from?

It was warm, it woke Christine from her frigid dream and was as sweet as her future was a month ago.

Christine felt equally lost, but now she had a beacon, a sign, guiding her way. She got up quickly and ran to the source of the sound, no matter how heavy her wet skirt had become. She lost her patience, she needed to know where that violin was coming from. She crossed the rows of graves, sometimes returning to the same row to check once again that the sound was not there.

The sound was so pure and ghostly, that it seemed to come from everywhere.

Her boots were muddy when she found it. Her footsteps had ruined the winter landscape by leaving brown puddles

It was Erika

She was standing on a raised grave a few feet above the ground, a violin on her shoulder being played with adoration and care. She was dressed very formal, in a purplish so dark that it almost looked black. In contrast, she was wearing a completely white cape and a black scarf covered her mouth and fell down one of her shoulders. Her white mask was almost lost with the color of her skin.

Being the only part of her visible, her eyes had all the power to paralyze her. So vast and seemingly empty, like a puddle of water that you don't realize is an enraged ocean until the realization that she won't let you go back at the cost hits you and your only option in drowning in them.

When Erika saw her, she stopped the tune abruptly, maintaining eye contact at all times. She leaned down to carefully lay the violin on the grave and unravel the scarf from her face gracefully. Christine debated whether she was wearing white gloves before remembering how pale her hands were.

''w-what you what are you doing here?’ ’Christine stuttered surprised and dazzled.

She found herself unable to take her eyes off her.

Hela, a whispering voice behind her head. The myth of the Norse goddess of death whose half of the face was beautiful and the other was a skeleton came alive when she saw Erika surrounded by graves and dead flowers

Erika said nothing, a sigh came out of her pale mouth, forming a white cloud around her, that only supported the ethereal air she possessed.

What did Joseph Bouquet think before he died at her hands? What would he have thought of Erika? Would he have compared her to a goddess or a ghost? Was he scared or fascinated? There was something about Erika's expression with which she had never looked at Christine before, which made it easy for Christine to visualize herself scared by her. Her expression was neutral and therefore far from the kindness Christine had associated with her.

'' Why did you follow me here? '' Christine asked, her blue eyes wide open. 

She shouldn't be here. That was her mourning and Erika shouldn't interrupt it. But Christine wasn't surprised to see her. Growing up as a viewer of the world had left sequels in Erika that had explained many of her behaviors and why she did things without considering people's privacy. That didn't excuse her but at least explained it. Was it a good time to condemn Gerald Carriere? It was always to Christine.

" You left on impulse, broken by mourning, guilt and pressure, if it was wise to let you go like this then I don't want to be." She said, very still, looking for some expression in Christine, so she could act in contrast to her.

" I can take care of myself. '' Christine said with a frown. She had to be independent in a world where she was worth nothing by herself, of course she could.

" That you can do not mean that you should always handle everything by yourself, it can be exhausting. '' Erika said and shrugged, unsure of what she was saying.

Erika could read it as an open book. After months of meeting her, Christine had not achieved the same.

"It could be true. " She admitted trying to hide her surprise because it was a possibility she had barely contemplated before.

There was a silence in which Christine looked down, shy

"Are you not mad at me? '' Christine asked almost childlike,

She had thrown Erika under a train and although it was for the common good, that didn't make Christine feel better or less guilty.

Erika sighed, dropping her arms to her sides '' No, of course not. It was my fault, I was going to tell you, but I was… distressed, kind of busy.'' She tilted her head to the side while raising an eyebrow in awkwardness.

Christine was too exhausted and drained to be mad at her, so an annoying sigh would have to work for now.

'' If you knew why you didn't tell me?'' She expressed frustrated approaching a couple of steps. ''And get down of there, that's disrespectful''

Erika snorted and sat above the crypt. Extending one of her legs and keeping the other folded, so she could rest her elbow on her knee and hold her head with her hand. It was a ... shameless position and Christine felt her cheeks burn for a second.

'' I don’t think it bother… '' turned back to see the name on the grave '' Wolfgang? a lot, wow, his mother had to use my face as an inspiration. '' She said, raising her other hand in the air.

'' Erika!'' Christine scolding

'' All right! I'm going to leave the dead man alone.'' She said but she didn't show the minimum initiative of get off the grave. '' I knew everything from the beginning, Cholet thought that since phantom was a real person, he can't be 24/7 at the opera! Yes, well ... you know, Christine! '' She exclaimed quite frustrated with her situation.

'' Why did you not tell me?''

''I was going to do it! But I had a couple of incidents and lost the continuity of time. It was my fault, I shouldn't have let you deal with this on your own.’’ yes, lament wasn’t her style and that annoyed Christine more than it should.

The lack of details was too frustrating for Christine to want to keep listening, it seemed that there was something that embarrassed her or that she didn't want to say.

''Enough. '' Christine raised her hand to ask for a pause. ''we both made our decisions and maybe they weren’t the best, the important thing is… what will we do to fix this?''

Erika couldn't look less carefree '' Nothing. '' She shrugged.

'' what do you mean with nothing?! ''

'' Nobody cares! Especially the police, if the case stagnates, they will have to let it go someday and if I have something it is time and patience. I don't think leaving is going to have any real use either. I was absent for many years and the rumors in the opera continued whether I was there or not, the phantom's presence does not depend on me. '' Erika said with her fist on her cheek, clearly resigned.

"So, your proposal is ... to leave everything as it is and just wait?" Christine asked and her anger melted in disbelief.

It was so simple, it was so stupidly simple that Christine just decided that no, just no.

''Exactly. ''

''But they’re sure you will attack me that night! Is there something they are not telling me, what is it ?!’’ She demanded to know

'' Yes, sure, Leroux is not stupid, his plan is much more 'complex' than he let you know, and I know there are things he is keeping for himself but remember that this is my theater. I know every hallway and I know where each door leads, he won't find me. ''

''... How are you so sure? '' Christine said after a moment of silence, a hand on her chest. It sounded reasonable but asking her not to worry about Erika was impossible.

" I just know. '' Erika said, shaking her head, unconcerned. If she was honest, she shouldn't be, she knew too little to afford that luxury. But if she had Christine safe, the rest didn't matter.

''They want to kill you!’’ Christine's face went flushed in anger.

'' And that? Do you think they made it?'' Erika mocked, and although not of her, Christine felt it personal.

'' Now you're being stupid and careless! '' 

'' It doesn't change that I know what I'm doing.''

'' Oh seriously? You will come to predict how the police and people will act when you seem to have no idea how the interaction between people works? '' Christine exclaimed very angry, burying her fingernails in her palm.

'' Go deeper into that Christine…'' Erika asked very quietly, but not angry, her fist under her jaw

'' Oh god, you are telling me about how to avoid getting killed, and the last time I saw you before that, you confessed a murder and then before that you ... uncle, or whatever Mr. Carrière is yours! Told me how he made you grow up in the basement! It's bizarre, Erika and now you followed me here and- and. '' Christine rambled awkwardly burying her fingers in her hair

'' And what?’’ Erika raise an eyebrow in interest, staring at her.

" Well, it's weird to say the least. " She said, her anger freezing at the intensity of her brown gaze.

'’Tell me, do you run from me? Are you afraid of me? '' Erika.

Erika could never forget the absolute terror that gripped her when she realized that Christine had left Paris. Would it end like this? Suddenly, in the middle of the chaos and without a goodbye kiss. She couldn't bear to lose her heart that way.

The bitter taste that exploded in her mouth at the thought that Christine had fled from the closest place in her heart in fear of her mistakes could only be compared to having her mouth flooded with blood. And she knew that taste.

'' I don't know what you are capable of doing, and not knowing that scares me, but not of you, never of you. Don't ask dumb questions. " Christine shook her head without a single doubt on her face.

Erika was drowning silently in her own anguish, so those words were a relief to her scared heart.

Christine immediately noticed the change in Erika's gaze, she looked lighter, more awake and aware of her surroundings. It was when Christine realized, Erika had a limit and a weakness. It was Christine herself. She never saw it that way until now, as she realized the immense power she had over Erika.

Considering the power that Erika had over Christine herself, she could not explain why that realization surprised her so much.

''I do what I must do, like it or not. If I'm alive right now, it's because I refuse to be ruined by anyone but myself. '' She said as pretentious as ever. She had started gesturing with her hands again. Much more like herself.

Maybe it was because she hadn't seen her in person in weeks, but Christine didn't notice how tense Erika was just a minute ago.

'' You are going to get yourself killed, idiot. '' Christine panicked, unable to contain the urge to scream.

She quickly shortened the distance between them, being just a foot away

She had agreed with herself that worrying about her was silly, but it was impossible to fight with that impulse that told her she was going to lose her angel no matter how much she fought for her.

'' I'll be fine, Christine. Calm down, everything will be fine. '' Erika finally obeyed Christine and stood up of the crypt.

Her height intimidated Christine for a moment. She had almost forgotten how tall Erika was, almost a head taller, even though she wasn't wearing high heels today.

'' Don't tell me to calm down! I have more than enough reason to be mad at you right now! '' And she had them, but Christine was more scared than angry.

"Fine, but listen to me, nothing's going to happen to me, take it for granted." Erika tried to calm her down, taking her by the forearms.

Christine wasn't ready to let that subject go.

'' Eri- ''

''No, listen to me, nothing will happen to me, neither Cholet will catch me nor Leroux nor his squad of hard heads. I'll hide, I'll leave that night if you want, take it as a fact and now tell me, what are you worried about? '' Erika ask her, her grip became stronger, without being enough to hurt her.

Chirsitine stopped repelling when she lost herself in her eyes.

Christine unconsciously crossed her arms to put her hands on Erika's, while thinking about her answer

Which was nothing

If Erika remained safe, what else did it matter? With her deal with Cholet he no longer had the pressure of Faust breathing in the neck. If she performed at the gala, she could fulfill her desire to return to the stage and sing without anything ruining it.

But above all, Christine couldn't ignore what she was seeing after begging so much for it.

She had asked for a sign and for one reason or another Erika was now here. It felt right, it felt heavenly and now that she could believe that everything would be fine, the world finally made sense again.

She had asked for a sign and she knew how to recognize when she saw one.

The relief came out in the form of a white sigh and the weight on her shoulders vanished making her feel she could move again.

Maybe she was being dumb, Erika didn't need paranormal signals to be ... creepy, and she said it in the most affectionate way possible

She had the option to take what she wanted, her, and give it for a sign of destiny. For the first time the universe gave her the option to choose, and Christine chose her.

Christine sighed, dropping her arms at her sides, in surrender.

''Are you okay? '' Erika asked confused, removing some unruly curls from Christine's face, being careful not to touch her skin.

'' Erika? '' Christine called without answering her question.

Erika raised her eyebrow as a sign that she was listening.

'' I want to see your face, I want to see you '' She asked gently, looking her in the eye, saying I love you with her eyes.

Even so, the masked woman immediately tensed. Her hand flew to the less blessed side of her face. Her first instinct was to refuse, hide from Christine.

But she couldn't say no to her sweet sad look. The memory of Christine's lips on her shattered cheek came to her memory and that gesture painted of love and innocence warmed her heart enough to allow it to speak above her fear.

And it said it was worth it. Christine was not going to reject her, and Erika would not find disgust or fear in her eyes.

She looked at both sides even knowing very well that the cemetery was empty. With unstable hands she took off her mask, her eyes staring at Christine at all time.

Erika hear Christine gasp under her breath and saw her face turn white, the effect lasted only a few seconds before returning to her normal color. It was seconds where Erika's heart stopped, and she was unable to breathe.

Christine was able to find her in the strange features. She had forgotten how bad it was and how painful it seemed, but it was still her maestra, and she will get used to it. The mask was the only barrier that Christine could tear down, and she felt so close to her now.

'' That’s my Erika.” It was the first thing Christine said cradling her soft cheek. '' Can I? '' She pointed to the other cheek where her deformity was.

“You can. '' Erika forced herself to say in a small gasp.

Carefully, Christine cradled both sides of Erika’s face and stood on tiptoe while Erika bowed to her unconsciously. The masked woman's skin was as cold as a piece of ice.

Only when Erika saw Christine’s loving eyes free of all fear and covered in a charming curiosity, was she able to breathe again.

Christine left a tender kiss on each of her cheeks, all with gentleness and sweetness.

And Erika shivered, and each of her barriers crashed.

She was unable to continue to maintain her weight on two legs and fell back, sitting on the crypt once more.

'' Christine... '' Erika said in a stifled voice while crying uncontrollably, seeing her as if she had never seen a human being before.

'' Why are you crying? '' Christine asked worried, wiping her tears with her thumbs. Friction and the moisture of her tears took away part of her facial makeup, revealing part of the blue veins in her cheekbone.

Erika looked miserable; sad and tired. Her expression of sorrow rejuvenated her eyes and gave them a childish grief. Those were bittersweet tears of relief, as if she could breathe again after almost drowning.

"I thought I would never see you again" She confessed. The power of the vulnerability of her eyes immediately defeated Christine.

'' Why did you think that, my love? '' Christine asked in anguish.

'' I looked for you everywhere and I couldn't find you, I thought you were never going back." She said in a desperate sob, looking at Christine with sadness and relief in her eyes.

Christine put her arms tightly around her neck and hugged her against her chest with all her strength. She used a hand to gently stroke her hair.

"I left and I didn't tell you anything ..." She realized and the guilt she felt made her feel sick ''Oh my angel, my love…''

'' Don't leave me! '' Erika cried against her chest.

'' You are my best friend, my maestra, I want you to be with me. '' Christine said, kissing her head, running her fingers through her long brown strands. ''Leaving you was never an option, I will not leave again so please don't cry anymore, I’m so sorry. '' She cried too

She had talked to Jean Claude, so he could explain her absence, but she said nothing to Erika. if she had not been surprised when she saw here it was because she knew that Erika knew about everything that happened in her domain. 

Christine knew that Erika would find out, but she didn't think about what would happen before. Her Erika, her sweet, sensitive and gentle Erika. Who had cried in her skirt until she ran out of tears, who was afraid of being abandoned, and Christine had abandoned her.

The soprano joined her forehead with Erika's and raised her hands again to hold her face again. There were so many things she wanted to say but the lump in her throat and her own sobs didn't let her do it.

'' Could you forgive me Christine? '' Erika pleaded in a sob. Her crying seemed to make it difficult for her to breathe

'' Shhh. '' Christine cooed trying to calm her. '' I am the one who should ask for your forgiveness, I abandoned you, I fled from my problems and made everything worse. I'm sorry, I was wrong, Erika, and I am very sorry for leaving like that. ''

Erika held Christine's waist with an iron grip. She realized that the tiny blonde was trembling, so she covered her with her white cape and Christine smiled. Although her tremor was just her emotions trying to find a place in her.

Christine had hugged her to comfort Erika, but she also felt so safe and comforted in her arms.

'' I’m so sorry, Christine, for everything. '' That was a vague statement that Christine understood, but she didn’t expect her to go deeper into it. '' For making you torment yourself because of me, for hurting you so much that you couldn’t fight with the need to come here. I have neglected myself and I did not measure how much that would afflict you. Tell me, can you forgive me? Am I still the object of your love?'' She asked and broke the union of their foreheads to look her in the eye. Her noseless face asking for love

Christine slipped her hands off her face, running her thumbs through Erika's lips for a moment. She had bitten her lips in nervousness and now they were sore and covered in tears.

Love did not heal everything and sometimes it was not enough, but there was much more which was worth fighting for Erika.

'' You are my love.'' She confessed, looking for her icy hand to entwine their fingers. ''And you want my forgiveness? I have nothing to forgive you, but I will give it to you if you give me yours.'' And she smiled broadly imitating the shy smile that Erika dedicated to her.

She leaned down to kiss her cheek again. the texture was hard and uneven, like leather covered by candle wax, strange to her, but it was still Erika.

Erika was invaded by nerves and her heart beat hard in anticipation of what her tiny blonde was going to say.

'' I … there are things that I don’t understand why you did them, and we can’t change your past, I know that it torments you, I know, I can feel your anguish as if it were mine, so... we can only hope that the future is kind to us, and do our best to be kind to ourselves. '' Christine took Erika’s hand and raised it to kiss her palm and the inside of her wrist ''Can we?''

Erika became a bundle of nerves. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous? It was just Christine, her Christine. Those eyes would be her death. Big, beautiful, blue; so helpless and pure, as if they could contain the world in them. Those eyes could be so cruel, so merciless.

'' We can,'' Erika confirmed with her heart beating in her throat.

'' Yes … and I, I’m also sorry for saying those things about you, you are neither stupid nor careless nor anything like that, you are wonderful, Erika. You are… you.'' She shrugged with affectionate resignation.

'' Is that supposed to be a compliment? I should be offended.'' Erika managed to joke feeling her mouth suddenly dry.

'' Oh, come here.” Christine said, clinging to her bony waist, she was always surprised at how much her arms sank between the layers of clothing before reaching her. “I have told you that your hugs are the best?''

"That's funny," Erika murmured, wrapping Christine's curls between her fingers.

"Why?'' Christine raised her eyebrow.

"I was going to say that about yours." She said, smiling sweetly with all her teeth.

Christine laughed and if the warmth of her smile shifted in real heat, she would have melted the snow around her

'' I missed you so much.'' Christine said.

Both melted in each other’s arms. And Erika kissed Christine's head and cheeks, making her laugh with joy and redness in her cheeks.

Erika never responded to her confession, but Christine didn’t think she was wrong when she said that this was her way of saying ‘I missed you too’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, Erika has abandonment problems and Christine may or may not have a bit of PTSD from the Titania incident. This chapter is longer than I predicted because I did not expect to include so much fluff, but well your characters know what they want.  
Also, I described it that way because I always rely on the 2004 production but Erika is wearing the outfit she wears in the final scene, yes, the same outfit she was supposed to die in. this chapter becomes depressing once you think that Erika is canonically dead  
and finally, now this story is also available in Spanish, but in wattpad, it is the same but a little (just a little) more polished and I edited it a bit so that it could be read without prior knowledge of phantom, I decided to join home and watlc in a single book, and it can be found as ''El fantasma de la opera: Donde mil amantes lloran'' by nessieray1988, which by the way is the same account I have since I was 13 years old, I have called myself nessie in Internet for a long time. And as a reminder, I'm also nessie665 on tumblr  
and well, that's it, thank you for reading. Consider leaving a comment or a kudo if you like the story, thanks ❤


	5. I live in darkness but my soul is light

" That was always there? " Erika spoke in a gasp of wonder. Her voice was hoarse and a dry sob came from her throat a second later.

She stood up slowly, carrying Christine with her.

The smaller woman opened her eyes lazily. Erika moved so slow and graceful, like the current of a river, that she barely felt when Erika lifted her. She had been so calm, that she had almost lost consciousness for a moment.

'' It's a pretty view, right? '' Christine asked crossing her arms, taking place on Erika's side and letting her head fall on her teacher's clavicle. Her eyes closed again, navigating between the lines of unconsciousness.

The line between day and night grew thinner by second. The yellow and orange painted light was bright and comforting, making Erika feel a warm emptiness in her stomach.

She had her unmasked face raised high, and was looking at the sky as if it was the first time she had realized it was there.

'' It's too bright, I have a headache and I can't see anything. '' She complained, raising one arm to cover her eyes and using the other to wrap around Christine's waist.

The sky was cloudy and starting to fade, but after years running away from the light, it still hurt to see it.

" We can go to another part of the cemetery if you want. " Christine spoke, tilting her head to hide part of her face in Erika's neck.

She had Erika's mask hidden underneath her cloak. Christine needed to see her face, and not to get used to, not to seek comfort, just because it was her.

'' No! '' Erika exclaimed out loud, taking her hand off her eyes abruptly, not ready to give this up yet.

'' No, it's okay, it's ... I don't know, can you really just lift your head and see ... this? '' She said, marveling, passing a hand through the air and then clenching her fist as if she wanted to take the sky by surprise to put it in her pocket and take it with her.

'' I need to get you out more often. '' Christine tried to joke but it was so solemn that it sounded like a promise. ''Are you talking about the sky? Yeah well, it's the sky, it's always there, angel. '' She shrugged, a tender smile on her lips.

'' Is...is unbelievable! It's like living in St. Peter's Cathedral! '' She laughed with almost childish joy, holding Christine from behind.

Christine didn't know what she was talking about, but she smiled anyway '' I'm glad it makes you happy. ''

Erika held the soprano tightly, trying to feel some of her warmth. She was cold, the icy air felt more like a slap than a caress on her wet face covered in tears.

Still, her mind was too over-stimulated to pay attention to that. All these captivating, beautiful, graceful things that she had buried and put aside. She had forgotten how big the world could be. It was too much. It was overwhelming. Everything was too bright, too colorful. Terrifying and forgotten.

A long time ago, she had thought it was worth living just to set foot on this world, she was beginning to remember why.

Christine sighed in satisfaction, and lifted her head to look at her maestra. A ray of sunlight shot through her gaze. The dark brown Christine was used to, turned into a pool of golden amber that took her breath away. Christine knew that she would never see eyes more beautiful than those that Erika possessed.

Christine tugged on Erika's white cape playfully to get her attention. 

Erika looked down from the sky to smile at the little blonde in her arms. She took Christine's hand to make her turn around and face each other. The unmasked woman placed a hand on the back of the soprano's head, gently reached out to kiss her forehead. Her lips were cold, sensitive; wet and covered in tears. It was more a caress than a kiss. Her lips barely touching Christine's hot skin, and the coldness and tenderness made the soprano shiver.

Christine's hands went up to place them on Erika's collarbone. She could feel how bony Erika was even under all those layers of clothes. A familiar tension filled the air while Christine wondered what it would feel like to touch her bare skin.

Trying to get rid of that urge, she brings her fingers to the back of the brunette's neck. An overwhelming feeling washed over Erika as she felt Christine's fingertips go down her throat. 

Christine fought with the idea of kissing her. She could do that, right? Erika wanted it too? Indecision formed a knot in her stomach. It would be so easy to attract her to kiss her on the lips.

But before she could make a decision, Erika released her and walked away. Being in that position, the light hurt her eyes, enough of the sky for now. She blinked repeatedly, her vision was dim and cloudy.

'' All good? '' Christine asked, masking the disappointment in her voice.

'' All good. '' Erika nodded giving a long sigh in order to stop the hiccup that wanted to get out in its place.

She was being honest. Christine was here, and won't leave, and that was enough for her to regain her composure. The knot of fear in her throat had dissolved. 

'' Shall we go? '' Erika walked a few steps, but she reached out her hand so Christine could take it.

Which she did without hesitation — Her hands were_ much_ colder than usual. — before questioning anything. '' Where? ''

'' Home, the next train leaves in an hour. '' She explained, holding hands with Christine. '' We will have to stop and take another train in Mantes, we will arrive in Paris in the early hours with luck. ''

'' Are we leaving so soon? '' Christine asked, frowning.

The journey here had felt like it took forever, and she felt like she has been just what a sight last in the cemetery.

'' Unless you want to stay overnight in the city? '' Erika asked at the same time as she was shameless begged her with her eyes to say no. she wasn't ready for a night out of Paris.

Although she didn't have the money to even consider the possibility, Christine took a few seconds to think.

She hated the idea of staying at Perros, she hadn't spent a night here since she left. In her eyes, this was a ghost town. After Madame valerios passed away, Perros had become a cemetery and nothing else for her.

The bitter taste of regret rose in her throat. She had acted so badly when she left. She had been so cynical, believing herself justified by her mourning. Much of her current personality came from how bad she had felt and the conclusion of how much that was not worth it.

'' No, I want to go home. '' Christine clung to her teacher's hand, intertwining their fingers. '' How long have I been here? Two hours? Mark this as my worst financial decision of the year! '' She complained embarrassed.

" Just in time for New Year's Eve. " Erika joked, making Christine laugh. "Shall I write it in red or black ink?"

'' In blue if you can. '' Christine smiled shaking her head.

The joy did not last long. The melancholy of the air made her sick.

'' Are you okay? '' The sincerity in Erika's voice made Christine want to cry.

She dropped her arms to the sides, shaking her head, her lips pressed together in a thin line holding back a sob.

'' What am I doing? I am an adult woman, and here I am, following absurd and senseless rituals as if death were a monster that I can protect myself with a blanket. My family is dead, because I can't accept it and get on with my life? ''

Christine asked her. Although she was rhetorical and not waiting for an answer, the question seemed to touch a nerve in Erika. Her eyes took that rare vulnerability that always made the moment become intimate.

'' ... People just die; and we spend the rest of our lives looking for whatever they give us in someone else. '' Erika spoke absently, opening and closing a hand on her chest.

The statement gave Christine chills, and she frowned in disagreement. That didn't sound right.

''You make it sound horrible. '' Christine complained, her lips pursed in an unintentional pout, truly upset by her words.

''Because it can be. '' She spoke as if she were talking about a past curse that had been easily corrected. The ones caused by a poisoned peach and broken by a kiss, Christine didn't think it was that easy.

Christine thought about asking, but decided it was useless, she knew that Erika was talking about her mother.

She was silent to hear what else she had to say but Erika said nothing.

'' And? What else? '' She circled her wrist, motioning for her to continue.

Erika was thoughtful, her lips parted, her hand took place under her chin, nodding her hair away from her face.

'' Only that sometimes we found it; and it's not a replacement, nor is it something better or worse, just different. '' She shrugged, surprised as she didn't think she could untangle decades of unspoken grief and thought that never stopped.

When she said it like that ... Christine could see some feasibility, but her thoughts were entangled in a dark room after being abandoned for years. This was the first time that she had discussed this with anyone.

'' I can't understand it. '' Christine whispered, frowning.

'' When my mother died, I took it... well? at least for be so young, until I saw my face. After that my whole perspective changed, my own image tormented me. I was a child and suddenly I realized that the monster under the bed had been my own reflection all the time. '' Her expression darkened and her eyes reddened.

Erika's expression remained hard. She raised her right hand in a gracefully calculated move to hide her right cheek. Because of the way she positioned her fingernails on her skin, Christine feared that she would hurt herself.

'' I realized that my mother was gone and would never return. Despair consumed me when I realized that I had taken for granted the love she gave me. who else would love me as much as she did regardless of my face? Nobody, nobody would do it because my mother was ill and her eyes saw a beautiful and perfect face that was never there. But my goal remained the same, to be loved by myself. '' 

She lowered her hand from her face as new tears welled up in her eyes, but she smiled through them. Her expression turned bittersweet and softened.

''And I do! '' Christine exclaimed, almost running to where she was. '' I do. '' She said pressing a hand on Erika's smooth cheek

'' And that's my point! '' Erika giggled, placing her hand over Christine's, closing her eyes to sink into her touch. '' You do, I found someone who sees my face and smiles, I have experienced all the happiness that life can offer. ''

'' Oh my love, that's not true. '' Christine smiled at her gently, shaking her head. '' There's more, much more. '' She took Erika's shoulders, having to look up to see her face. Her blue eyes shining with excitement about everything she wanted to do with her.

'' Then show me, teach me, guide me.'' Erika pleaded in a whisper, pulling Christine up by the elbows.

She had such an intense gaze that Christine couldn't stop staring.

" I will. " She whispered a promise.

Christine gathered their foreheads, Erika felt her heart pound and her breathing accelerate.

" Erika? " The soprano spoke shakily feeling the warm breath of the older woman fall on her lips.

" Umh? " She replied. She was breathing through her mouth for fear that breathing through the hole she was cursed to call nose would disgust Christine.

But she smiled '' You are extraordinary, creepy at times but I wouldn't want it any other way. '' She spoke from the bottom of her heart.

'' Thank you? ''

The smile slid down the soprano's cheeks in such a natural way that she didn't feel it.

Christine laughed. A feeling of calm filled her as she looked at Erika's face in the sun. What was life like before her? She was what Christine have always wanted, what she has lost. Not worse or better, just different. Erika did not replace everything she had lost, but she was enough.

Yes, she was beginning to understand.

Erika raised her hand and unsure of what to do, left it froze in midair. Christine took over and raised her hand, to make the tips of their fingers brush. The touch was delicate, soft; making her feel warm inside. She laced their fingers to knuckle height, the gesture felt intimate, private even to their very eyes. None dared to speak, let alone breathe.

Their hands closed in a firm and gentle touch, Erika wanting to possess her, Christine wanting to free her.

'' Christine? '' Erika whispered bowing. Her voice trembled and her heart pounded furiously in her throat.

'' Umh? '' Christine whispered, her eyes alternating between her maestra's lips and eyes.

'' Can I kiss you? '' Erika whispered tenderly.

Those words unleashed a fire in Christine's chest, making her legs tremble and filling her heart with impatience and affection.

'' Please. '' She nodded pleadingly, raising her trembling fingers to separate Erika's lips with her fingertips.

Erika gasped and her breath hitched. She released a warm sigh that imparted against Christine's lips. Both looking into each other's eyes.

"Kiss me. " Christine sighed, closing her eyes. She barely heard herself speak about her heartbeat.

The sound of the church bell startled Erika and made her straighten her posture, leaving her lips well out of reach of Christine.

The blonde froze in place when she realized that Erika had denied her what she wanted so much.

'' Is the church bell.'' Erika spoke, stepping back. A fairly standard practice between them, as it was tiring for Christine to have to lift her head every time they spoke. And well, until recently, Erika had preferred her distance.

But this time it felt like a slap. What did the church bell matter? !! Being so close, that felt so cruel.

'' That's right. '' Christine spoke very still, still processing what ALMOST happened. 

" It means we're late." Erika explained, her gaze running away from Christine. Of course, she wanted to kiss her, how much she wanted to kiss her. But she did not know how to get the moment back.

'' Already? '' Christine said surprised at how quickly time passed with her, taking Erika's hand again, resigned '' Let's go then. ''

" Are you not going back to your father's grave? " Erika asked, cocking her head in the direction of Gustave Daaé's grave.

Christine fell silent, looking at their clasped hands.

She didn't like the idea of leaving without saying goodbye to her family, but she had never taken anyone to her father's grave. The idea sounded so intimate. It felt wrong to do it as a last minute plan. One day she would return with her for that sole purpose, and it would be a memorable and happy moment. With all the time in the world available.

'' You have to come back. '' Erika spoke, sounding quite confident but casual.

'' Not really, I want to go home. '' She said and inside she regretted it. 

'' No, seriously, you have to go back, you forgot your bag, Christine. '' 

'' Oh! '' Christine exclaimed out loud, understanding Erika's insistence. Foolishly raising her arms and looking at her feet to make sure she didn't have her bag nearby. ''I think I'll go for it.'' 

Her voice was tight, and she made no indication that she was going to move. Erika raised an eyebrow. She could read people's emotions well, not knowing how to react to them was something different. She could understand that Christine wanted to go alone.

'' Go, I'll stay here. '' Erika smiled at her, but Christine had learned to read her eyes and could see that she was somewhat confused on how to feel.

'' It's not that I don't want you to come with me but-''

'' You don't want me to come with you. '' Erika nodded ''It's fine, I'll wait for you here. ''

She was not thrilled at the idea of letting her out of her sight after the scare that her sudden departure had brought her, but it does not bother her either. 

But seeing how Christine took such importance on the fact, should she feel bad about it? It was just a grave. It had been Christine's father once, but down there was only a dead body and what is dead ceases to exist and what ceases to exist ceases to matter. She could see some possibility of comfort in it, but she wasn't sure. Erika was not used to visiting the cemetery, in fact, she had never visited one back in Paris.

Christine shook her head '' Erika, I loved my father, and I knew he would want me to be happy, and I was, eventually, but never so much until I found you. '' Christine said taking her by the elbows, with enough love in her eyes to make Erika nervous.

'' I think I found you. '' Erika said sweetly, a playful smile, and in a show of her growing confidence, put her hand on Christine's cheek.

Christine laughed '' That is more accurate. '' She curled up against Erika's icy hand.

'' But now we are not at our best now, I want things to get done differently.''

'' Not at our best, ah? That's true. " Erika said, pulling her hand away from Christine to run her fingers under her eyes. She rubbed the gray residue between her fingers with disgust, not again.

Christine smiled at her. '' You are pretty, fae. '' She said running the back of her hand across her sunken, rough cheekbone, barely touching her, afraid of hurting her.

Erika rolled her eyes without discretion. Then made a gesture that Christine would have described as wrinkling her nose if her dearest had enough nose to do that. 

The deep hollow in her face was... uncanny, but Christine had stopped noticing until she mentioned it. So she thought she would get used to it soon.

'' That one is new, I like it. '' Erika said about the new pet name, too shy to look at her.

'' Maybe... '' Christine spoke with a nervous and shy smile.

'' Maybe...What? '' Erika asked squeezing Christine's hand in an attempt to give her courage.

'' Would you come back with me next year? The coast is beautiful in the spring, I would like to take you there. '' Christine said nervous with her cheeks flushed, a shy sweet smile on her lips, looking at her feet.

There was a silence that lasted what it took Erika to speak through the knot in her throat.

''... Seriously? Aren't you lying? '' Erika asked, her powerful voice growing small.

Erika was aware of her reality. Not only from her shattered face but from her corpse-like appearance and her many, very varied strange customs. Christine would be capable? Of be seen with her without caring what others think of her ghastly being or of the unusual nature of their relationship. It was too much to ask, a dream and nothing more.

''No, why I would be lying? '' Christine said, taking Erika's icy hand and rubbing circles with her thumb. The hand trembled under her fingers.

Erika almost wanted to get mad when she heard that question. How could she ask why? Just looking at her was enough, but the sincerity in her voice was so convincing that for the first time, Erika believed her.

Christine smiled at her until something behind the taller woman caught her eye. She released her teacher's hand to run toward it. Erika couldn't see what she found so interesting about a broken flower pot until Christine turned and proudly held out a few small purple flowers.

'' For you. '' She said with a playful and affectionate smile.

'' For me? '' Erika asked, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Only Christine would have thought of giving flowers to the phantom of the opera. A warm feeling of youthful shyness and bubbling excitement blossomed in Erika. No one had ever given her flowers before.

'' Yes. '' nodding smiling insisting that Erika take the flowers.

Which she did with shaking hands. They were three purple flowers, small and dying, but Erika had to force herself not to cry. It was this kind of thing that she never expected to experience; everything seemed like a dream, an illusion. It was not the flower itself that made her cry, but what it represented. She loved Christine and Christine loved her back. To truly love and be truly loved, that was the definition of miracle.

Christine did not know how to interpret Erika's troubled expression and watery eyes, and her smile fell.

'' Why are you crying? Are you okay, angel? ''

'' Yes, I-I'm fine, don't worry'' She said wiping away the tears before they turned into streaks of black lines on her face. '' Christine.... thank you.'' Her face lit up little by little, a sincere and bright smile grew on her face. 

'' I'm glad you like it! '' Christine knew it had been a small and childish gesture but seeing her reaction made her happy, dazzled by Erika's smile.

What made Erika's joy so special was not only how rare she was, but how contagious she was.

Erika laughed with joy, having twirled the stem of the flowers between her fingers as she watched them. Christine couldn't believe how much such a tiny detail could make her so happy. It was lovely to see how much she was moved by a flower. Something that Christine did not expect, but Persephone don't stop being the goddess of spring for being the queen of the underworld.

'' Violets. '' She laughed under her breath, like enjoying a personal joke. '' How curious. Thank you, Christine, I love it. ''

'' Why curious?'' Christine questioned, tapping a lock of hair behind her ear.

Erika's smile tilted. '' I'll explain it to you when we got home. '' Just with seeing her Christine, her smile widened. She began to feel that she could never take the smile off her 'face'

Christine imitated her, her smiles were never truer than when she smiled at Erika.

'' Alright, go, I'll wait for you here. ''

Christine nodded, but before that, she held Erika's hand by the wrist and brought it to her lips to leave a kiss between her palm and her wrist.

'' I'll be back soon! '' She said, very pleased with herself before fleeing the place before Erika could say anything. '' and stay there! '' She added halfway.

Erika was unable to say anything, feeling vulnerable and fragile, was it nerves or a migraine on the way? Who could know.

She laughed, raising her face, letting cold air numb her cheeks and the sunlight caressing them. Was this what freedom felt like? She promised herself that she would fight for it.

There was no meeting sweeter than what she felt at that moment when she found herself grateful to be alive.

* * *

'' Do you feel good, angel? '' Christine asked, lowering her hands from her head and then covering the new hairstyle she had done with the hood of her cloak.

She had arranged her hair by making a single braid, intertwining the navy blue ribbon that she always wore on the wrist under the sleeve or in her pocket between the braid. - Erika had lent it to her during one of their lessons months ago and Christine had neither the will nor the strength to return it. - and twisting it onto itself to make a bun in the center of her head.

Erika had looked at her in the strangest way when Christine reminded her that she couldn't wear her hair down in public. She had wrapped her face again with that black scarf she was wearing, hiding her hair in it.

Without her hair and face in sight, and thanks to her clothing, height and broad shoulders she could pass as a man without problems. An eccentric one perhaps, but that's better than be seen a crazy woman.

'' A bit sick? '' Erika spoke doubtful, trying to tighten the grip on the handle of the case of her violin in her left hand. Her hands were so stiff that she felt she couldn't move them even if she wanted to. All her limbs felt heavy.

It was a migraine, of course. If she didn't feel bad now she was sure she would later. She hoped the pain part could wait a few more hours, or preferably, never come. For now, her vision was somewhat obscured and clouded by white lights. She was beginning to feel tender, like made of water. It was a normal feeling for her, the term of minor inconvenience was too big for it, or at least it would if she were in the opera. In the perspective of being in a station with ... people, not so much.

"We will arrive soon at the station." Christine said as a way to comfort both of them. Her voice was soft, understanding, as she already knew that Erika's health could be fragile. 

Erika seemed to mumble something, but the scarf over her mouth shut her words.

'' Give it to me. I can from here. '' Christine said reaching out to ask for her cloak.

The cloak, being Erika's property, was too long for her. So Erika had been holding the excess material all the way, which was wet and muddy just like Christine's black skirt. Luckily for her, her positive character began to return and her socks and stocking were still dry. Wet socks in a cold day are enough to make anyone cry.

Erika reached out to give it to her. Their hands brushed.

Christine had an urge to pull her hand away. Erika's hand was freezing, as made of ice and stiff and heavy as a wax figure. Erika's skin was cold by nature, and very often she complained about how cold she was. She had not said anything about it and that was strange and worrying.

" Are you cold, Maestra? "

Yes? quite a lot, or not, she wasn't sure. She was in that strange line where her skin was too numb to recognize the feeling of tiny needles in each pore on her skin as cold. Her resistance to pain made it easy to ignore.

'' I'll be fine, I forget my gloves at home. '' She nodded, her voice covered by the scarf over her mouth.

" Give me the violin, I'll take it from here. '' Christine asked, wrapping the extra fabric of her cloak on her forearm and pushing her bag over her shoulder to get it out of the way. " The last thing I want is for you to get hurt, dearest. "

Erika smiled at her even knowing that Christine couldn't see is. She carefully handed her the violin, Christine took it with a melancholic smile.

'' Thank you, Christine. '' Erika said wrapping her arms around her torso under her cape, burying her hands in the purple coat she was wearing underneath. 

Christine had the urge to ignore and bury the bittersweet feeling that carrying a violin in the city of her adolescent brought her, but instead decided to savor it. The memory of some parts of her childhood that were not obscured by their apparent Inescapable poverty concealed much of the anguish she had been carrying for weeks. It didn't taste as bitter as she thought it would.

'' We're almost there anyway. '' Christine smiled as they crossed the last bend in the trail. '' Look. '' She pointed at the new visible building.

Erika's feet anchored to the ground.

The station was about 10 meters away. It was not a very large, rectangular-shaped building with a triangular roof. The red bricks had darkened over the years and were now covered in a coat of green paint that did a poor job of bumping up the years of wear and tear.

For Erika, it was like seeing a nightmare from a distant past. It made her feel heavy, cornered. Freedom was gone. She had been a fool to think that she could escape the opera for a long time.

The feeling died soon. Rationality made her capable of speaking, returning her calm countenance.

" This is ridiculous." Erika confessed, uncovering her mouth. For how cold she was, Christine was relieved that she didn't have blue lips.

'' What do you mean? '' Christine asked.

Erika knew how little sense her fears had. Her mind was able to untangle them, make them useless.

'' It's a station! '' She exclaimed exasperated. '' I've done it many, many times before, I used to live on a train when I was your age, I can't even count the nights I slept in a wagon. ''

'' Seriously? '' Christine's eyes widened in curiosity.

She knew that Erika had been out of the country for years and being in many different places. It was such an intangible idea talking about someone as Erika. 

" It was a different time. " She shrugged, putting an arm around her torso. ''A different life.'' she sighed.

'' And what change? '' Christine said, pulling away Erika's white cape to touch her arm, holding onto the dark purple fabric of her coat. 

'' I did... many things, some wonderful, others torture me. I've made more mistakes than a thousand men together could in their lives, Christine. When I had to return to Paris, I also felt that I had lived more than a thousand men together could. I was tired and alone. It was as lonely as being the only person in the world in the quietest room, eventually, you either die or lose your mind. I create my own choice, I chose the opera. ''

Christine did not know what to say. Every detail of Erika's life was strange. She knew that Erika was much older than her, that she had lived much longer than her, and not always in the right way. The idea made her feel protective and small at the same time.

'' How long has it been since you came back? '' Her voice was small, weak, a sharp, caring edge. 

'' Five, maybe six years. '' Erika said it as if it wasn't much. Her perspective of time was different, and it was better that way. She didn't want to look deeper into that.

'' And you've been there ever since. '' Christine didn't even try to make it sound like a question.

''Where else? It was the safest place I knew. It is my theater and I promised to take care of it and treasure it as the task of my life. When I felt alone, I went to my box and saw that life continued whether I was there or not. That's what nightmares are made for some, but it was comforting to me. As long as the opera remains open, I would never be alone again.''

'' You've never told me that. '' Christine whispered, reaching out to put it between Erika's shoulder and chest.

"Christine" Erika called her in a whisper "You make me want to live again, not just be an observer. My desire to belong came back, and I don't know if that's a good thing. '' Her dark eyes looked at the soul of the soprano, showing hers.

Christine turned soft, raising her hand to stroke Erika's cheek. She put a lock of dark hair behind her right ear, brushing her hair with her hand to smooth it.

'' You are alive, there was a moment where I thought that would not happen. Everything has been so crazy the last few weeks, and if that says anything, it says that things change. You have a chance. '' She raised her hand to cover Erika's mouth, shutting her up before she could respond. ''and no, before you start, it's not the last.'' 

Erika smiled behind her hand. Christine pulled her hand away, running her fingertips down her teacher's jaw line.

''How can you do that? Believe that I have any right to redemption; it's insane, are you aware of that? How can I assure you that it will be worth it? '' There was something so soft that it could only be heard when she spoke to Christine.

''' I know what love looks like, fighting for it will always be worth it. '' Sometimes, it was not enough, but She was willing to take the risk

Christine had grown unconditionally loved. Erika on the other hand, did not know love without complications, without clauses. There was always a condition in between. 

'' But?..?''

Christine shook her head '' Nothing.'' She said puzzling at the strange question.

Erika looked at her with her only visible eyebrow raised, as if she didn't believe her, almost defiant

'' Yes, there are things that we have to talk about and things that you have to promise me that you will never, NEVER do again, but don't look at me like I'm dumb. ''

Erika laughed under her breath. It sounded reasonable, she could work with it.

'' Oh but you are. '' Erika joked with a mischievous look in her eyes

''Excuse me? '' Christine said playfully widened her eyes, trying to look offended, but losing against her laughter.

'' You're letting yourself be courted by the opera ghost, there must be something terribly wrong with you, you should see a specialist.'' 

''That was a joke? Are you making jokes again, fae? You will be fine then. Come on, silly girl, we are going to miss the train '' The blonde said poking Erika in the ribs to make her move.

'' Christine! '' She inevitably laughed, more from the nerves of being touched than from any tickling sensation.

Christine smiled and took her by the waist, resting her temple on Erika's shoulder.

'' Do not be afraid, we are in the middle of the week in low season and at the most inconvenient time to travel. There won't be many people, I promise. '' She spoke, holding her as they walked.

Erika looked ahead and after a dark and intense look, sighed

'' I'm going to do it. '' She slipped her hand out of her cloak looking for Christine's. '' Please don't stop holding me.''

Their fingers intertwined tightly.

'' I will not. ''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo, crazy times? It has been a while, stay safe everyone  
in other things, one of Erika's dialogues comes from the original Leroux's book, the “I have experienced all the happiness that life can offer. " idk, I always wanted to use that phrase in a happier context  
by the way, is this a good time to say that Erika is chronically ill? like, 50 thousand and something words later, yes, that's not great, I'm so sorry.  
Anyways, I hope you like it. Be careful and have a nice day 💙 see you soon ... hopefully

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I have a lot of things to say today  
First of all, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I enjoyed writing it a lot; inventing a working life for Christine (a probably not historically accurate tho), showing her relationships outside of Erika, her battle with morality; It was fun, I put a lot of love into this chapter  
I think that was why everything went wrong with it. At one point when I was almost done translating it, Microsoft word ... disappeared, the application was deleted by itself, I don't know how it happened but it took the whole already translated chapter and part of the original chapter. I was devastated, and I cried, and I even thought of not posting anything. But hey that didn't happen. I dried my tears and went on. I'm a little sick of this chapter because I had to read it like 100 times between the two times I translated it, it was like 5 days in a row of pure translation, this chapter was scheduled three days ago.  
One of the reasons why it hurt me so much to lose this chapter is because I wanted to get rid of it, NOW. Why?  
Well, this is my last update until December. I have a pretty big life or death exam in November and I really want to focus on it. so see you in December! I will still be active on my tumblr anyway (nessie665) so follow me there!  
Thanks for reading guys. If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment or a kudo, really appreciate them.
> 
> Oh by the way, I change the backstory for Sorelli in this story just to give continuity to the takarazuka production (she is the woman in yellow that Philippe has in his arm in melodie de Paris). I was very surprised that she was there, but I was not going to waste that opportunity. But well, I change her story mainly because the clothes she wears there are too elegant, she looks like a woman belonging to the same social class of Philip and that was never the reason for the existence of Sorelli. At first, I thought it might be Philippe's gifts, but he doesn't seem interested enough in her for that.  
It is only a small change but I wanted to clarify it to avoid possible confusion.
> 
> and that's it! im gonna to stfu now.  
See you next time!


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